


without second thoughts

by blueshi



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Bottom Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Doctor Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Established Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan, Explicit Sexual Content, Hospitals, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia Boss Yoon Jeonghan, Minor Character Death, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Relationship Negotiation, Smut, Sort Of, Top Yoon Jeonghan, dont worry theyre all unnamed ocs, everything would be solved if jeonghan and jisoo knew how to have a conversation, for now anyway, minghao embodies the biker lesbian aesthetic, soonyoung does what he wants and the author cannot stop him, spoilers for dont lie 1, theres a plot i swear theres a plot just hang in there, theyre a thing but they become a healthier thing by the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28574367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueshi/pseuds/blueshi
Summary: Jisoo's not supposed to be with Jeonghan. He knows that better than anyone. But he's always had a weakness for pretty things and forbidden things and things that aren't good for him in the slightest, and god knows Jeonghan is all three.
Relationships: Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 57
Kudos: 134





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> me: writes almost obsessively about joshua gently touching the underside of jeonghan's chin  
> joshua: actually fucking does it in the last seventeen video of 2020  
> me: sajfioashgoishgiosa????
> 
> so anyway this is more of a 'navigating our unconventional relationship' than a 'getting together' fic because jeonghan is already smitten with jisoo and jisoo is self-aware about the fact that he's whipped for jeonghan except right now they’re kind of on different pages about what that entails lol. inspired by the first don't lie gose episode(s).
> 
> ++
> 
> title taken from thanks by seventeen. go listen to it. joshua told u all to listen to it go listen to it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sweetheart," Jeonghan says, almost purrs, his voice low and smooth. Jeonghan's voice has always been the first thing to captivate Jisoo, lilting and melodic and perfectly assured, winding through Jisoo's thoughts and refusing to relinquish hold of his mind. Jisoo loses himself into that voice over and over again, Jeonghan's voice and his dark, dark eyes and the slight smile on Jeonghan's face.

When Jisoo opens the door to the apartment, he's greeted with silence. The door closes with a soft _click_ behind him as he slips off his shoes and shrugs off his coat. He shivers a little; he turned the heater off when he left for work in the morning, a habit he's never bothered to break even though he doesn't have to worry about money quite as much anymore, and he's still wearing his thin hospital scrubs.

It's dark outside already, but the city skyline is dazzling with light that spills into the apartment through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows. He flicks on the lights anyway, but doesn't draw the curtains – no one can see this high up. The stunning view is matched by the rest of the apartment, all sleek edges and gleaming floors, but he doubts he would've picked out this place on his own, as much as he appreciates it. He's never been the kind of person to treat himself, would never have contemplated living in a penthouse apartment in the city center beyond a passing thought. His lover, though, certainly has no such qualms about lavishing money on him.

At the thought of his lover, Jisoo scans the apartment briefly, though he knows already that Jeonghan isn't here. Jisoo's a little disappointed, but it's not unusual. He feels a slight flicker of resentment at Jeonghan's flightiness, but tamps down on it a second later. Jeonghan doesn't owe him anything. He could've gotten away with doing much less than he already has. The fancy jacket that Jisoo now wears every day, the jewelry that glimmers from where it's tied to his pants strings, the apartment itself – all of them gifts from Jeonghan. Jeonghan has more than enough money to spare, of course, and Jisoo makes a decent amount as well, but his head still reels whenever he shifts and feels the silver necklace against his chest, tucked under his scrubs.

He pulls off his shirt on the way up the stairs to his bedroom – his and Jeonghan's, but mostly his – and discards his pants in the adjoining bathroom, letting both fall into the laundry basket as he steps into the shower. The warm spray is glorious against his sore muscles, his entire body exhausted after a twelve-hour shift. For a while, he just stands under the spray with his eyes closed, letting the water trickle down over his body. It's a luxury he was wary about indulging in back when he still lived in a worn-down apartment in a much shadier part of town, a sentiment that carried over in the first few weeks he lived here, too accustomed to trying to skimp where he could to pay off his loans from medical school.

Jisoo has just stepped out of the bathroom, hair damp and a towel tied around his waist, when he hears the front door open. He startles even though he knows who it is; only three people have the key to this apartment besides him and of the three, only one ever comes around. He quickly discards his towel and tugs on a loose pair of sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt or underwear. He'll probably end up losing the pants in a few minutes, too, but he knows he'll feel awkward greeting his lover completely naked.

He steps out of the bedroom and quickly descends the spiral stairs down to the main floor of the apartment. Jeonghan's mouth curves upwards when he sees him, an appreciative smirk that goes with the glint in his eyes as they linger on Jisoo's bare chest. His eyes rove over Jisoo's body and settle on his face, dark and entrancing and brimming with desire.

"Sweetheart," Jeonghan says, almost purrs, his voice low and smooth. Jeonghan's voice has always been the first thing to captivate Jisoo, lilting and melodic and perfectly assured, winding through Jisoo's thoughts and refusing to relinquish hold of his mind. Jisoo loses himself into that voice over and over again, Jeonghan's voice and his dark, dark eyes and the slight smile on Jeonghan's face. He doesn't need to say anything else before Jisoo is striding towards him, into his embrace.

They're the same height, but there's something about Jeonghan that always makes him seem like _more_. Jeonghan is effortlessly confident and infallibly charming in everything he does, from the way he trails his gloved hands down Jisoo's back with deliberate purpose to the way he smiles at him a moment before he leans in.

Jeonghan kisses him long and slow but demanding nonetheless, everything about him as enigmatic as it has been since the day they first crossed paths. His lips are soft but his mouth is hot and insistent. He swipes his tongue over Jisoo's bottom lip and Jisoo parts his lips obediently, feeling as if he is inhaling Jeonghan in with each snatch of breath, drinking in his presence, intoxicated on the feeling of his mouth on Jisoo's and his leather-clad hands trailing down Jisoo's back. Jeonghan's touch isn't rough but it's insistent, pulling Jisoo closer and closer to him until Jisoo's exposed skin is pressed up against the expensive, silken material of Jeonghan's suit. It's a stark contrast to the feeling of Jisoo's own clothes, his worn sweatpants loose and soft and barely clinging to his hips.

"Jeonghan," Jisoo breathes, just to say his name, just to feel grounded to the present when everything about Jeonghan makes him heady, dizzy with exhilaration. " _Ah_ ," he gasps when Jeonghan slips two fingers under the waistband of his pants, teasing at the bare skin underneath.

"Expecting me?" Jeonghan asks, sounding pleased with the discovery.

"The opposite," Jisoo manages to say as Jeonghan fondles his ass. "I was showering – you interrupted me –"

Jeonghan makes a sound of contemplation and tugs Jisoo's waistband down, letting his pants pool down at his feet. He's completely naked in front of Jeonghan, who is still effortlessly composed in his exquisitely tailored black suit. "I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry."

It's a bit of a routine for them – Jeonghan disappears for days, sometimes weeks at a time, but always comes back with his touch so fervent and passionate that it leaves Jisoo breathless. They've fucked in every room, just about every surface in the apartment, sometimes with Jisoo on top and sometimes Jeonghan, but always with Jeonghan sharp and composed with his dark eyes gleaming as Jisoo falls apart under his ministrations. There's something thrilling about it, losing himself in the mesmerizing gleam of Jeonghan's eyes and the silken tones of his commands.

"Bedroom?" Jisoo suggests when Jeonghan pulls briefly away to tuck a strand of Jisoo's hair behind his ear. He shivers a little at the feeling of leather brushing his face, knows what it implies, but it's nothing more than a reflex because he's known since the beginning what Jeonghan is.

"Mm." Jeonghan leans forwards, his breath stirring Jisoo's hair as he murmurs into his ear. "I was thinking I might fuck you right here."

Jisoo swallows, feeling a flush creep up his cheeks that must show on his face, because Jeonghan laughs, low and amused. He feels Jeonghan's laughter vibrate through his chest as he tries to unbutton his suit jacket, exasperated with the number of layers Jeonghan has on. The slippery material skids beneath his fingers, all luxury and casual extravagance.

"Go prepare yourself," Jeonghan orders. Jisoo could resist, if he wanted to. They've had sex with Jisoo defiant, playful, with Jeonghan smirking under a mask of obedience while Jisoo straddles him, but today, he's more than willing to follow Jeonghan's orders.

In the time it takes for him to return with a half-empty bottle of lubricant, Jeonghan has made quick work of his clothes. His gloves are gone, revealing slim fingers, and so is his shirt, so that his lean torso is on display. The city lights illuminate his face, drawing attention to the elegant curve of his cheekbones, the sharp line of his jaw, the graceful arch to his neck. Even mostly-naked, Jeonghan retains every bit of his easy arrogance. The ever-present gleam in his eye is all the more captivating with the alluring curve of his lips and the lines of his naked body.

Jeonghan usually likes to tease Jisoo and Jisoo is always up to quip back at him, but today, he doesn't do anything more than make an appreciative noise before he’s pressing Jisoo up against the glass. Jisoo inhales sharply – the contrast is startling, the intensity of Jeonghan's warm body and the shockingly cold surface of the glass against his exposed skin. Jeonghan cups his face in one hand, the other deliberately tracing down the center of Jisoo's chest, moving down until his hand finds its way between Jisoo's legs.

"Ah – Jeonghan," Jisoo gasps, his cock stiffening in Jeonghan's grasp.

"Say my name again."

" _Jeonghan,_ " Jisoo repeats, letting his voice pitch upwards, not bothering to control the _want_ that seeps into his voice. He's rewarded with a low groan from Jeonghan and he feels Jeonghan hardening from where they're pressed together, making him flush with satisfaction.

"Turn around," Jeonghan says.

Jisoo turns so that he's facing the glass walls, looking out over the city, with his back to Jeonghan. He's barely settled in his new position when Jeonghan is thumbing his ass cheeks apart, drawing out a gasp that turns into a moan in his throat.

" _Ah_ – you're impatient today," Jisoo remarks breathlessly.

"Rough day. Ask me later."

A rough day for Jisoo means a never-ending stream of patients and ill-tempered families, means keeping an impassive face while a headache throbs at the base of his skull. Sometimes, with Jeonghan, it means he's exasperated with his subordinates, business partners, annoyed with the state of his company and the company he keeps – but when Jeonghan comes back to the apartment with his gloves on and a cold smile on his face, an aloofness to his features and a dangerous glint in his eye, it means something very different. It's never bothered Jisoo as much as it probably should, especially with Jeonghan's slick fingers pressing against the entrance of his hole.

Jisoo's palms are flattened against the window, his skin leaving smudges behind. His breath fogs the glass as he gasps. His legs quiver as Jeonghan fingers him roughly, threatening to give way beneath him. It's barely enough, Jisoo already knows from experience. Even when Jeonghan takes his time to thoroughly work him open, there's always a stretch and an accompanying burn when Jeonghan enters him, and Jeonghan definitely isn't taking his time today.

Jeonghan is _big_. Jisoo hisses through clenched teeth as Jeonghan sinks into him. He isn't the biggest Jisoo's ever taken, but he's certainly somewhere up there. They both stay motionless for a few seconds, both their bodies tense as they adjust to the feeling of being locked together. Jisoo's forehead is pressed against the glass, a cold circle against his skin. He stares out over the city as he tries to catch his breath and suppress the sounds that rise up in his throat when Jeonghan shifts inside him.

It's nearly midnight but the city is bustling with life, the buildings illuminated in little bright squares, the shopfronts lining the streets only pinpricks of light from this high up, streaks of light flashing past from the headlights of cars. The late-night city-goers are miniscule dots on the streetlamp-lined paths. Jisoo can barely see them from up here and he knows there's no way they can see him, either, but it still makes his cock twitch and a flush spread over his body, the thought of being put on display to the entire city sending a thrill through him.

Jeonghan seems to have the same idea. "Look at that, sweetheart," he says in Jisoo's ear, his voice silken smooth and very low, satisfaction rippling through it. "Admiring my city?"

Jisoo manages a laugh which chokes off into a gasp as he shifts involuntarily on Jeonghan's cock. "Your city, is it?"

He feels Jeonghan's smirk on his skin when Jeonghan turns his face to mouth at Jisoo's neck. "It’s my city to the people who matter," he breathes, his breath warm on Jisoo's neck. It makes Jisoo's body quiver in Jeonghan's arms.

Jisoo lets out a high-pitched cry when Jeonghan snaps his hips against him. There's nothing to grab onto, nothing to stop his trembling legs from collapsing beneath him, and he's grateful for Jeonghan’s possessive grip on his body pinning him up against the glass. Jeonghan's chin is locked over Jisoo's shoulder, his breaths turning into pants as he quickens his rhythm. Jisoo turns his head to the side and Jeonghan meets him halfway, their mouths colliding in a clash of tongues and teeth, hot and wet and searching. Jeonghan nips at Jisoo's lower lip even as he thrusts faster into Jisoo, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through Jisoo that curls low in his stomach.

" _Mine_." Jeonghan's breath is hot against Jisoo's ear. "Let the entire city know you're _mine._ "

There's a growl in his voice that Jisoo makes a note to ask him about later; Jeonghan has always been possessive, but there's something fierce and cold to him today that is at odds with the way he winds his arms around Jisoo's chest and presses their bodies together so that every inch of them is touching. Jisoo opens his mouth to respond but a moment later, Jeonghan _rams_ into his prostate and it turns into a drawn-out moan.

Pleasure builds in him, so quickly and intense that he can't help but let out a high-pitched keen. Jeonghan's thrusts are less controlled now, unrestrained and uneven but still slamming into Jisoo's prostate with every snap of his hips. Jisoo slips his hand down to grasp at his aching hardness and flinches when his palm, cold from the glass, makes contact with his cock. His fervent arousal is more persistent, though, and he closes his hand around his aching length, biting down on his lower lip as Jeonghan fucks him more and more roughly. He knows he's on the edge, fragmenting into an electrifying blend of pleasure and pain.

He comes apart in Jeonghan's hold, streaking the glass with white, a moan tearing its way from his throat. Jeonghan's thrusts stutter and still as he finds his release in Jisoo, spilling into his hole. Neither of them say anything, both of them panting for breath, but Jeonghan's touch on Jisoo's body as his legs give way say over and over again, _mine_.

\--

The first time Jisoo met Jeonghan, he was in a much less refined part of the city.

Jisoo was warned that crime ran rampant in the city center before he moved, but everyone had said the same thing when he'd headed off to university in a big city, then medical school a few years later. He'd lived in big cities his entire life and though he'd never been in this one before, the ever-present lights and busy streets, the persistent cacophony of the city-goers and cars, the buildings that stretched towards the sky and loomed over the streets were all familiar to him. In any case, he wasn't about to turn down such a lucrative job as an emergency doctor in one of the largest hospitals in the city. He could hardly believe that it had been offered to him to begin with, as young and recently-graduated as he was, and he wasn't about to let the opportunity slip away from him.

Rent in the city was, is, and probably always has been obscenely expensive. As well-paying as Jisoo's job was, he still had to pay off his tuition loans. He lived in a dilapidated apartment with flickering lights and water that could sometimes be coaxed to be warm and thin walls that only seemed to amplify the somewhat concerning bangs and thumps his neighbours made, but it was as affordable as it got in the city, and close enough for him to walk to the hospital, if he woke up early enough. It was clear enough that it wasn't a fantastic part of the city to live in. The flickering streetlamps and potholed roads were indication enough of that, even if it weren't for the suspiciously low rent. For the first few weeks, though, he hadn't had any troubles, even if he stumbled bleary-eyed into his apartment long after the sun had set after a long, tiring shift.

It was gratifying, finally working after near-endless years of studying, but exhausting all the same. It was his second twelve-hour shift in as many days and he was doing his best not to blink or stop moving in case he simply puddled onto the ground and fell asleep. Until that day, he had stuck to the main roads, where cars flashed past him and passersby strolled quickly by him, engrossed in their own late-night business. Even though he walked alone, as fast as he could persuade his tired limbs to move, the sound and bustle of the city always accompanied him on his way.

Maybe exhaustion had something to do with his decision, or maybe his carefulness had worn off after weeks of nothing of note. In either case, moments later, he was cutting through a dimly-lit street devoid of people, where the shop fronts on either side were dark and motionless. The sounds of the city seemed to fade into the distance so that the only noise came from his footsteps, reverberating hollowly in the empty street.

Jisoo felt a flicker of unease at the uncharacteristic emptiness and briefly considered heading back the way he came, but shook it off as paranoia. It was just a street, not some shadowy alleyway, and he was hardly a target. He was wearing his beat-up old coat over his scrubs and he had no jewelry on his fingers or wrists because of his job. He wasn't exactly someone worth mugging. Even if he was, he'd be able to hand over his wallet without much trouble; there was barely more than spare change in there, anyway.

All the same, he quickened his step, suddenly much more awake.

Suddenly, Jisoo caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head, his eyes darting back and forth along the street. His steps faltered as unease built inside of him, sour and chilling.

A sharp _crack_ shattered the silence. Jisoo stumbled backwards, staggering, and maybe he would've screamed if his breath hadn't choked in his throat because he knew that sound was unmistakeably a _gunshot._ It rang through his ears on and on and on, turning his shock into panic into horror, only intensifying when he saw someone crumple to the ground only feet away from him.

"Are you all right?"

Perhaps it was instinct that made the words spill from his mouth. His voice echoed strangely, in the cold street or in his ears, he wasn't sure. Everything about him felt numb, except for his heart, thumping frantically in his chest. There was no response from the shape on the ground except for a low groan, a sound that made Jisoo's mouth go dry and fear streak icy-cold through his chest. He took a half-step over to the person, torn between helping and fleeing.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Jisoo started, his eyes widening as he realized there was someone else in the street, half-hidden by shadow, standing over the person on the ground. But he could hear the ragged breathing of the person on the ground, another pained groan, and he abandoned all caution to scramble over to the person on the ground.

Blood bloomed from a hole in their chest, which was heaving as they fought for air. Their face was pale and contorted in pain, their eyes wild, darting between the figure standing above them and Jisoo's face. Jisoo worked in the operating room, he'd spent years in medical school and shadowed trauma doctors and surgeons, he'd seen much worse than this before. But it had always been against the sterile white of a hospital room, with tools on hand and associates nearby, knowing that there was something he could _do_.

Here, there was nothing. His hands were empty, moving helplessly, and he knew that there was nothing he could do that would staunch the flow of blood running in a red river down the person's chest.

"You're – you're going to be okay," Jisoo managed to say, stumbling over the platitude because he knew it was a lie but he had to do _something._ He turned to the person standing over them, watching with vague interest. "The hospital's not far," he said, a pleading note creeping into his voice. "If we hurry, maybe we can –"

"Don't bother. He's already as good as dead."

A smooth voice, cool, disinterested. Jisoo felt a flare of emotion, somewhere between desperation and anger.

"I have to do _something_."

But he knew it was futile. He'd seen death before, he knew what was coming when the man's eyes, alight with panic, start to dim. The hand clutching at his chest slackened and fell to the ground. The only sound in the street was Jisoo's breathing, harsh and uneven.

The person standing over them broke the silence.

"It's for the best, really. Even if you pulled off a miracle, I'd shoot him again as soon as you discharged him."

His tone, matter-of-fact and calm, didn't match his callous words. Jisoo turned to the person, rising to his feet, his legs shaky but his hands remarkably still. _Doctor's hands_ , he thought a little wildly, prompting him to look down at the stranger's hands. They were clad in elegant gloves made of some dark, skin-tight material, the glint of gunmetal stark against it.

Jisoo's throat was dry, but his voice came out unexpectedly clear. "You killed him."

The man inclined his head. "I did. And you're not going to tell anyone, or I'll kill you, too."

There was something about him that made Jisoo know instinctively that it wasn't an idle threat – not a threat at all, just a cold statement of fact. The man was chillingly calm, a jarring contrast to the dead body at his feet and the gun he still had in his hand. His black suit was clearly expensive and tailored perfectly, clinging to his lean build and calling attention to his flawless posture, somehow exuding easy arrogance without any movement. Jisoo might have thought he was an aristocrat, if it weren't for the ringing in his ears and the dead man at his feet, if it weren't for the cold gleam in the man's dark eyes and the cruel mirth in the twist to his lips.

"Who are you," Jisoo whispered.

The man laughed once, low and quiet but rippling through the street.

"You're new to the city, aren't you?"

Jisoo didn't respond. He didn't think the man was looking for an answer, either. Whatever emotion was on Jisoo's face seemed to amuse him, because the corners of his lips lifted very slightly.

"This is my city," he said, his voice slipping into Jisoo's mind and clinging there, until every single one of Jisoo's thoughts was tinged with it. "I run the criminal underground. I deal with traitors like _him_ ," his voice darkened with anger as he flicked his gaze towards the body, "the way I want to."

Jisoo didn't say a word. He couldn't seem to make a sound, couldn't seem to move at all, even when the man turned his dark gaze onto Jisoo's face and smiled. It was a charming smile, alluring under different circumstances, and Jisoo couldn't help but notice a little hysterically that the man was undeniably one of the most attractive people he had ever seen.

"Stay out of trouble, sweetheart," he said softly, and it was almost a purr. "I'd hate for someone as pretty as you to get hurt."

\--

 _Well_ , Jisoo thinks to himself. He's certainly failed spectacularly on that front.

He's curled up against Jeonghan on the couch, Jeonghan's arms entwined loosely around him and their legs tangled together. Both of them are still naked and their skin is a little damp from cleaning up. The flat-screen TV mounted on the wall is playing some movie, but neither of them are paying much attention to it.

"Are you going to stay the night?" Jisoo asks.

"Maybe." Jeonghan runs his fingers through Jisoo's hair, drawing a sound of pleasure from Jisoo as he leans into the touch. "Wanted to see you before I left."

"You're leaving? For how long?"

It's not an unusual arrangement for them. Between Jeonghan's legitimate job as a highly successful businessman and his more illicit activities, his schedule is only ever predictable in how erratic it is. And even if Jeonghan kept to a regular schedule, Jisoo's hospital shifts fluctuate every month, so they can go two weeks without seeing each other only to spend every moment together when their schedules align. All the same, it's rare for Jeonghan to stay for only one night before immediately leaving again.

"Not sure," Jeonghan admits. He's been languid and relaxed for the past half hour, the two of them lazily wrapped up in each other exchanging idle kisses, but now, his muscles tense fractionally. This, Jisoo presumes, is the reason for his insistence earlier tonight.

"Business, or," Jisoo kisses the line of Jeonghan's sharp jaw in between words, and smiles to himself when the tension dissipates, if only slightly, " _business_?"

Jeonghan laughs quietly and reaches up to brush his thumb over Jisoo's mouth. "The second one."

Much the same activities that brought them together, then. The ones that make Jeonghan slip on his dark gloves – so that he won't leave fingerprints behind, maybe, or to protect his hands when he shoots, or maybe just because Jeonghan is vain and likes the way they look. Any of the three are possible. The kind of business that makes Jeonghan slip a gun and a knife into his waistband before he strolls out of the apartment, the kind that returns him with his gaze hard and steely, his smile so sharp that it makes Jisoo's mouth dry and a thrill jolt through his entire body.

"Can't your men deal with it?" He tries, though he's already guessed the answer.

Jeonghan shakes his head. "Not this time. It's personal, this time around." Jeonghan doesn't scowl; he's much too vain to mar his features like that, but derision is tinged in his voice when he continues. "Some people aren't too happy with the fact that I'm at the head, now."

Jisoo raises his eyebrows. "Haven't you run the city for two years?"

"I suppose it took this long for them to start making their displeasure known."

Jisoo wonders how long this will last. Jeonghan rarely speaks in detail about his more illicit activities. _Stay out of trouble, sweetheart_. Jisoo's just about given up on doing that, considering how he's pressed against the bare chest of the most dangerous man in the city and possibly the country. Jeonghan, on the other hand, has always done what he can to steer Jisoo away from it with vague answers and distractions. One of his ways of showing his affection for Jisoo, he knows, but it's maddening, sometimes, how much Jeonghan refuses to tell him for _his own safety_ , as Jeonghan says.

Jisoo skims his hand over Jeonghan's chest. It's lean and toned, his stomach flat and hard, but his skin isn't unblemished. He can feel the raised skin of scar tissue beneath his fingertips, long-since familiar to him. Some of them he's even treated himself, turning up the apartment lights as bright as they can go, filling the apartment with the sharp smell of antiseptic, and staying silent, tight-lipped, and fretful as he touches his fingers to Jeonghan's skin.

"What are they doing?" Jisoo asks.

Jeonghan doesn't roll his eyes, but he gives the impression of it. "Just saying things, for now. Dissenters. People who think they could do a better job than I can." He snorts, sounding affronted at the very thought. "As if."

"Of course not," Jisoo agrees. "It's your city, after all," he continues, turning his face so that he murmurs it into the side of Jeonghan's neck. Maybe he shouldn't be endeared with the way Jeonghan preens at the praise, but he is. Maybe he shouldn't be feeling fond of Jeonghan, knowing what he is and what he's planning on doing – in vague terms, anyway – but he is, because Jeonghan's eyes shine and his smile is bright and he hums, pleased, as he brushes his lips against Jisoo's cheek.

"I'll leave early in the morning," Jeonghan says decisively. "Spend the night. Then I'll go deal with them." He brushes a strand of Jisoo's hair away from his face and Jisoo closes his eyes briefly in satisfaction. "I might be gone for a while, I don't know. I need to track down the dissenters. Who knows how many there might be," he says, his voice turning cold and hard. Jisoo knows that Jeonghan relishes his control over the criminal underground, takes perhaps-perverse pleasure in most of the things he does, but there is nothing he despises more than traitors. He saw that for himself in their very first meeting.

"Should I be worried?" Jisoo asks, trying for playfulness. It seems he succeeds, because Jeonghan's eyes soften again as he looks into Jisoo's face.

"You're my lover. You shouldn't be."

Jisoo searches for any indication of anxiety in Jeonghan's eyes, but they're open and clear. Jeonghan ducks questions, skillfully redirects them and gives half-answers when he needs to, all, he insists, for the purpose of protecting Jisoo. But for all that it grates on Jisoo's nerves sometimes, he knows that Jeonghan has yet to lie to him.

"Is that common knowledge now?" Jisoo asks, thinking that he wouldn't mind much if it was, though it's hardly something they've really discussed.

"No," says Jeonghan. "But anyone who tries to hurt you has to deal with me."

It's heartwarming in a way that's maybe a little morbid, because Jisoo can guess what Jeonghan means by having to _deal_ with him. He's not so much of a fool to presume that Jeonghan will openly proclaim to the streets that he loves Jisoo, but Jeonghan has made it clear enough that Jisoo is one of his, now. And with that comes the risk of Jeonghan's wrath towards anyone who touches what is his.

"I can take care of myself, you know," Jisoo points out, keeping his voice deliberately even and mild.

Jeonghan shakes his head immediately. "You don't know what these people are like."

 _You could tell me_ , Jisoo thinks, a flicker of irritation rising up inside him, but he pushes it back down. Now isn't the time. When they have another uninterrupted stretch of time to spend with each other, with nothing weighing on them and nothing more to do than lounge around wrapped up in each other, perhaps he'll bring it up. For now, though, he stays silent and lets Jeonghan curl his arms around him, pulling the two of them even closer together.

"I'm going to miss you," he says instead, and he knows Jeonghan is pleased with the sentiment when he kisses Jisoo on the lips. It's softer this time around but still insistent, Jeonghan's lips gentle and probing against his. Jeonghan cups his face with a hand and Jisoo slips his hands over Jeonghan's shoulders, his eyelids fluttering shut under the warm pressure of Jeonghan's lips on his.

"So will I, sweetheart," Jeonghan murmurs when they finally pull away.

Jisoo rests his head on Jeonghan's chest, accepting another slow, lingering kiss. _I'll miss you too, sweetheart,_ Jeonghan's touch says as he strokes Jisoo's hair. It fills Jisoo with warmth and he tries not to feel guilty about the way it doesn't quite remove the tiny shard of resentment in his heart. _Later,_ he thinks. _Later._

He lets himself relax against Jeonghan, taking comfort and pleasure in the feeling of the two of them pressed together and sighing, smiling, at each touch of Jeonghan's lips against his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i was like yeah i'm not gonna just write about sex i'm gonna write a multichaptered fic and then the first chapter was literally just sex so i'm a fool in clown shoes. update schedule? who knows certainly not me i just need to get this chapter out so i actually have some pressure to keep writing instead of just letting it Sit in my drafts. gonna try for every two weeks though. fic's already planned out but not pre written.
> 
> also oh my god why are we getting so much jihan content i was like hey wouldn't it be cool if we FINALLY GOT A JIHAN SELCA but instead they posted a whole fucking video on the first day of the new year and i am losing my mind. jeonghan stop staring at joshua's lips challenge absolutely failed. what a way to start the year. anyway happy new year lol
> 
> twitter: @_blueshi, where i might start to chronicle my struggles to actually Finish something


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo turns. A lithe figure is leaning against a flickering streetlight, twirling a knife between his fingers. Both the blade and his blond hair gleam in the dim light, a stark contrast to his sleek black clothes. His narrow eyes are shifted towards Jisoo, alert and glimmering.
> 
> "You're here on Jeonghan's orders, aren't you?"
> 
> Soonyoung grins, a wide, feral thing that narrows his eyes into slits. "I don't follow anyone else's orders."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think. i THINK i can update every two weeks. i think? i have no idea how busy classes are going to be this semester but like now that gose is on hiatus until march i can externalize all my Feelings about svt in here.
> 
> warning for a brief mention of sex work (it's like one sentence) and description of blood because jisoo is an er doctor but it's not particularly graphic. also i am technically trained in first aid but not to ANY extent of er doctor and i am not majoring in anything to do with biology and also i've only been to the er twice and both times i was of questionable consciousness so you get to have extremely vague and most likely inaccurate er room shenanigans.
> 
> also i promise that the flashbacks are not going to be a constant thing i just started in media res and i was like 'shit' but i also didn't want to go chronologically and do a weird time skip so you get Some flashbacks

Jisoo wakes up alone. Jeonghan is already gone and has been for a while, it seems, because when he stretches out his fingers to the other side of the massive bed, the sheets are cold. He can't deny that he's disappointed, but he's not surprised, either, with the way Jeonghan was talking the night before.

He pulls out a fresh set of scrubs from his drawer and grabs his coat, which is hanging in the enormous closet attached to the bedroom. His phone goes in one pocket, his keys and wallet in the other. He turns down the thermostat before he leaves and double-checks that all the lights are off; he's not the one paying for the utilities, but as liberating as it is, he still feels a little guilty about it.

Jisoo makes a stop at the coffeeshop around the corner from the apartment and picks up a bagel and a small coffee, taking alternating small bites and sips as he walks to the hospital. It's early in the morning, the sun up but the sky a pearly-gray. This is the only time of day the city ever quietens. There's still a low hum of activity in the streets, but it's a little blurred around the edges, sleepy, almost dreamy. A few cars flash by at irregular intervals, the shopfronts are just starting to open, and the passersby are either wandering a little aimlessly or, like Jisoo, quick with purpose.

The walk is shorter than it was when he lived in his run-down little apartment and takes him through main streets instead of the crooked ones that branch out from the city center. On a good day, without any unexpected road closures or tourist crowds or protests, it takes him a little less than half an hour to get to work. A year ago, Jisoo would never have imagined having his dream job and lavish living arrangements _and_ an easy commute all before the age of thirty. His lips quirk upwards a little at the thought. For all of Jeonghan's cool arrogance and intimidation the first time they met, he very quickly shifted to spoiling Jisoo with gifts at any given opportunity. He's never lost his flair for dramatics, though.

He's not sure if this is what he expected to come out of his arrangement with Jeonghan – probably not, though, since all these developments are fairly recent. They haven't been involved for very long, less than half a year, but it seems longer, maybe because of how strange every part of it is. Every moment he's had with Jeonghan has been intense and thrilling in a way that Jisoo suspects is not particularly good for his health or sense of rationality. Then again, perhaps he shouldn't be surprised that he's fallen so hard and so fast for someone as mesmerizing as Jeonghan, even with all the risks he comes with.

\--

The second time Jisoo met Jeonghan, he was on his way to a graveyard shift at work. The cacophony of car horns and flashing lights blocking his usual route made him suppress a resigned sigh. Construction in the city always seemed to happen at the most inconvenient times in the most inconvenient places. He'd left his apartment early enough and had some time to spare, but he didn't particularly want to take his chances with the clogged intersection. The only thing left to do was to take a detour through another side street.

He hesitated on the corner of the street at the memory of what had happened the last time he'd veered off the main road, but only for a few seconds. It had been two weeks since he'd had his encounter and while it wasn't something he'd be forgetting very soon, he had to get to work and, well, he'd gotten out of the situation unscathed, hadn't he? What were the odds, anyway, that the same thing would happen twice in as many weeks?

 _You're being ridiculous._ Jisoo still wasn't quite convinced that it hadn't been an elaborate hallucination brought on by stress and sleep deprivation. He'd checked the news almost obsessively for a murder for a week after the event and there _had_ been a buzz about the death of some corrupt businessman, but there was nothing alluding to what Jisoo had seen that night. Nothing but his own memory which he, admittedly, had no reason to doubt, but the alternative seemed so implausible that he was starting to believe that he might have simply dreamed up the whole thing after watching one too many crime shows late at night.

Jisoo was wasting time. He glanced down the street – empty, the shop windows dark and lifeless, no one in sight – and walked swiftly through it, determinedly steady, focused on the sound of his footsteps against the pavement. They reverberated hollowly off the sides of the street, giving the eerie impression that Jisoo's own footsteps were following him.

"Pretty little thing like you shouldn't be out this late."

Jisoo doesn't know why he didn't startle at the voice. Maybe it was because it was the same one he'd heard over and over again in the past two weeks whenever his thoughts wandered during the day, when he was somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness at night, whenever he caught a glimpse of a sleek black suit on the street – which was often, considering the number of businessmen in the city. It was the same man he'd seen two weeks ago, the one with the silken, almost melodic voice and gleaming dark eyes. He stood at the middle of the street with his head tipped very slightly to the side, regarding Jisoo with casual interest.

Jisoo's steps slowed and stopped. For several long moments, the two of them stood in silence. The stranger's lips curled upwards, his eyes glimmering with something that Jisoo thought might have been amusement. A strange sense of calm settled over Jisoo even through his wariness, one that kept his voice even and clear despite his pounding heartbeat.

"I can take care of myself, thanks."

The stranger's sharp smile widened. He didn't say anything, but Jisoo had the distinct impression that he disagreed. His gaze roved over Jisoo, pinning him in place with its intensity.

"You didn't tell anyone," he said at last. It wasn't exactly a question, but it felt like he was expecting an answer, anyway.

"No," Jisoo said automatically, before registering the implications of what the stranger had said. "Should I be concerned that you know? Have you been watching me, is that why you're here?"

The man laughed, apparently amused, but the sound only made Jisoo warier. There was nothing in his hands that Jisoo could see, just the same sleek dark gloves covering his skin, but he couldn't shake off the memory of the cold glint of a gun in them. Jisoo's eyes darted over the lines of his elegant black suit, wondering if there was one concealed beneath it, wondering if he was hiding another weapon or any number of weapons, just waiting for a provocation to use them.

"I haven't been watching you," the stranger said, "and neither have my men. But no one's come for me, so you haven't said anything to anyone important." He regarded Jisoo with an interest that Jisoo didn't know how to react to, something stirring deep behind the coolness of his gaze. “As for meeting you here…this is just fate, sweetheart."

 _Sweetheart._ It made Jisoo's heart thud unevenly in his chest, a flush rising to his face, but also brought him solidly, jarringly back to reality.

"You don’t even know my name," said Jisoo.

"I can keep calling you sweetheart. It suits you." He didn't seem bothered in the slightest, in stark contrast to Jisoo, who was determinedly ignoring the fact that he was growing steadily more flustered by the minute. Everything about the situation was absurd. Jisoo should have been fleeing, terrified out of his mind, maybe considering moving to a different city, not reluctantly _charmed_ by the man he'd seen kill someone and who had possibly contemplated killing _him_ at some point as well.

"Well," Jisoo said, determinedly hanging on to his rationality. "I don't know yours either. And I saw you kill a man."

The man waved a careless hand. Every one of his actions exuded easy arrogance, from the way his head was cocked slightly to the side to the way he flicked his gloved fingers at Jisoo. Jisoo's eyes followed the movement automatically, darting between the man's hands and his face.

"It was unfortunate, but necessary," the man said dismissively. "He tried to cheat me."

Jisoo's mind felt slow and clumsy, unable to focus on much beyond the flutter in his stomach and the quickness of his heartbeat. The man seemed to recognize Jisoo's lack of understanding and let out a short, quiet laugh.

"Whoever you think is in charge of this city," he said, watching Jisoo's expression, "is wrong. _I_ run this city. The ports, the money, the drugs, the _sex_ ," his voice went low, velvety-smooth and undeniably seductive and making Jisoo's mouth go very dry. "It all belongs to me. That man? He pledged his devotion to me and he _broke_ it. He thought he was entitled to what was mine. And I don't tolerate traitors."

His face darkened and his voice was laced through with contempt. Jisoo felt fear jolt through his body – and confusion, because that meant he hadn't been afraid before. His heart was beating so loudly that the rush of blood in his ears drowned out even the sound of his own rapid, uneven breathing. _I run this city._ Not just someone involved in the crime in the city, but the person at the head of the crime in the city.

"Shocked, sweetheart?" The man said softly, deceptively gently, because a razor-sharp smile was still on his face. "At how brutal the city can be?"

Jisoo swallowed hard. The man's eyes followed the motion of his throat. It felt distinctly as if the man was toying with him and despite everything, Jisoo managed to find his voice and a spark of boldness. _Sweetheart._ The audacity.

"Shocked, maybe. But at how much you're telling me. Doesn't seem like a very smart move."

Jisoo braced himself for anger, but it didn't come. If anything, the stranger seemed intrigued by Jisoo's boldness. He raised his eyebrows and his gaze roamed over Jisoo again, appraising him, taking his time to peruse over every angle of Jisoo's face before he looked into Jisoo's eyes. The expression on his face seemed almost like appreciation, and some emotion that Jisoo didn't recognize burned behind those dark eyes. Jisoo's shoulders slackened a little, the tenseness bleeding away at the unexpectedness of it all. It didn't feel like the stranger was threatening him, it didn't even feel like the stranger was trying to intimidate him. He didn't know what that said about his sense of judgement and self-preservation. Nothing good, most likely.

"Maybe I'm trying to win your trust."

"Why would you do that?" Jisoo dared to ask. "Trying to recruit me?"

"I could never. I wouldn't be able to bear the thought of that pretty face being hurt carrying out my orders."

A huff of laughter made its way out of Jisoo's chest, surprising himself. The stranger looked exceptionally pleased with himself, his smile losing some of its sharpness and his eyes brightening in a way that was ridiculously endearing.

 _He killed a man, he's dangerous, you don't even know him,_ were all thoughts ricocheting through Jisoo's head, closely followed by the slightly more urgent, _and you're about to be late._

"I need to get to work," Jisoo blurted out, gesturing clumsily down at his scrubs, visible beneath his unzipped coat. The stranger looked almost disappointed, prompting Jisoo to add, "you can try and charm me some other time."

The man watched as Jisoo hovered indecisively for a moment and made no move to stop Jisoo as he walked past him. Jisoo's heart was still racing in his chest, his legs a little shaky, and the heat of his face told him that his cheeks were probably still flushed, but strangely enough, none of it seemed to be from fear. He was still clinging to the last few threads of his rationality, but he had the feeling that if he let go, he'd be feeling disappointed, too, about the fact that he couldn't stay any longer with the stranger.

Jisoo was at the end of the street when the stranger called out to him.

"Yoon Jeonghan."

Jisoo half-turned, confused. The stranger was still standing in the middle of the street, still watching Jisoo. His black suit and dark hair blended nearly seamlessly into the shadows from this angle, though his eyes still gleamed, catching what little light there was in the street.

"My name is Yoon Jeonghan," he elaborated. "And yours, _sweetheart?"_

 _Yoon Jeonghan._ Jisoo turned the name over in his head, staring at the stranger – no, Jeonghan. He had a name now, a name to linger in his idle thoughts along with Jeonghan's smooth voice and dark gaze. Jeonghan met his eyes, his expression expectant and maybe a little hopeful, too.

Jisoo's internal struggle with rationality and desire was very brief. "Hong Jisoo," he said and it felt like something significant, knowing Jeonghan's name, offering his own in exchange.

" _Jisoo,_ " Jeonghan murmured. A shiver ran down Jisoo's spine at the way Jeonghan said his name, drawing it out as if he were tasting it. Jeonghan smiled again, coyness flickering at the edges and his eyes dark and captivating.

"I hope we meet again, sweetheart."

\--

As soon as Jisoo steps into the hospital, he slips his jewelry – two rings and a bracelet, all three from Jeonghan – off and ties them to the strings of his pants. They glimmer there at his waist, winking under the bright hospital lighting. He pats down at his chest, too, making sure he's tucked his necklace beneath his shirt, cool against his bare skin.

Jisoo settles into a routine – as much of a routine as an emergency room doctor can have, anyway. He checks in, discards his coat, and nods a greeting to some passing colleagues. It's not long before he's completely occupied, striding from patient to patient. A headache, a broken arm, a fever; he catalogues them all in his mind and automatically sorts them in order of urgency, but his order is abruptly derailed when he hears his name.

"Dr. Hong?"

Jisoo looks up to see his colleague motioning him towards a patient that has just come in. He nods and tugs on the wrists of his latex gloves to make sure they're secure on his hands, releasing them with a _snap_ against his skin, a familiar and reassuring sound. He strides over as quickly as he can while retaining his composure, fighting the instinct to wrinkle his nose at the sharp, metallic scent of blood that grows stronger the nearer he gets.

"Sir," Jisoo says, slipping into the calm, authoritative voice he uses whenever he's on duty as he approaches the patient. It's a man, not much older than Jisoo himself, with his hand at his shoulder and red trickling between his fingers. He's sitting up rigidly on the hospital bed and still wearing what seems to be his work suit, clearly having arrived in the emergency room not long ago. His breathing rapid and shallow and his face is very pale. "I'm Dr. Hong. You're going to be okay," Jisoo assures him as he glances over to a nurse standing nearby and motions for her to wheel over the medical cart. "I'm going to check on your shoulder. Can you tell me what happened?"

The patient moves his head vaguely from side to side. Jisoo looks closer at his face to see his eyes blank, pupils dilated in his pale face. _Shock,_ Jisoo recognizes immediately. He won't be getting much useful information out of him for a while, yet, but he keeps up a constant stream of commentary and questions, making sure to keep his voice firm and even.

Jisoo peels off the man's shirt and hands it off to a nurse, revealing the injury. It's a not-insignificant puncture but luckily, it's a clean in-and-out wound with nothing embedded and not too deep. A quick survey of the rest of the patient's body reveals nothing else of particular concern, save for a few bruises and thin lacerations that can be dealt with later. As Jisoo cleans the wound, binds it, and monitors the patient's vitals, he keeps talking, trying to prompt some reaction from the patient beyond mumbles and nods. This is where Jisoo feels the most like himself, calm and steady, watching patients' breathing ease and the wild look in their eyes fade as he moves with deliberate purpose.

He manages to get the patient to reveal that he was stabbed during a disagreement, but not much beyond it. Jisoo switches to asking about prior medical history instead, realizing that the patient doesn't want to elaborate more than absolutely necessary. It's enough to know how the injury happened without knowing why, for treatment's sake, anyway. He wonders briefly if this is one of Jeonghan's men or one of the men working against him, but discards the thought almost immediately. He has no reason to believe this man is involved with anything like that. In any case, it's his job to save lives, not to worry about what kind of lives they are.

It's an all-right day. The patient becomes somewhat more talkative after Jisoo administers pain meds, and agrees to stay for further tests to make sure that nothing major has been damaged in addition to his shoulder. He deals with a university student with a concussion and has to wave off her rowdy friends that all clamour to check on her at the same time. He only barely manages to stop exasperation from tinting his voice as he does his best to politely brush off one that persistently tries to give him her number and briefly amuses himself with the thought of Jeonghan's indignation if he knew. He manages to make a little boy with a broken arm smile through his tears, which brings a genuine smile to Jisoo's own face even as he calms the boy's agitated mother with only some success. There isn't an idle moment in the day, but neither are there any panicked last-minute desperate operations, which is a relief.

His shift ends late, not as late as it did the night before, but late enough that the sun has long since sunken past the horizon when he starts on his way back to the apartment. He doesn't untie his jewelry from his pant strings, not wanting the glimmering metal on his hand to increase his risk of being mugged. He makes it a few blocks before his lips tug downwards into a frown at the unsettling feeling of being watched. A shiver runs down his spine, the skin at the back of his neck prickling.

Several times Jisoo slows and once he even stops in his tracks, but the feeling doesn't leave him. He glances around him and sees no one incriminating; there are still plenty of people on the street at this hour, but they all pass by him without a second look. At the same time, he can't help but suspect, some persistent sense lingering at the forefront of his mind.

In a split second, Jisoo makes a decision. At the next crooked side street branching off the main road – he seems to end up in a lot of them, he thinks wryly – he makes a sharp turn and ducks into it. He makes it about ten feet in before he hears a voice.

"You're not making my job any easier, you know."

Jisoo turns. A lithe figure is leaning against a flickering streetlight, twirling a knife between his fingers. Both the blade and his blond hair gleam in the dim light, a stark contrast to his sleek black clothes. His narrow eyes are shifted towards Jisoo, alert and glimmering.

Jisoo has met Jeonghan's right-hand men before, Minghao once and Soonyoung twice. Minghao is quiet and deceptively demure, but there's something in his eyes that is razor-sharp that makes it clear that he is not to be underestimated. Soonyoung, even when he's standing still and proud at Jeonghan's side, has a wildness to him that makes Jisoo's skin prickle. There's an almost-feral glint in Soonyoung's eyes as he moves towards Jisoo with a grace that reminds him of a prowling cat.

"I didn't know you had one," Jisoo says, keeping his voice level and his inflection clear. He hardly knows anything about Soonyoung – just that he's unpredictable at best, rivalled only by Jeonghan in terms of authority in the crime hierarchy, and that Jeonghan trusts him with his life. Jisoo's not sure where he stands, as Jeonghan's lover, so he doesn't do anything but stay still and watch Soonyoung warily as he approaches him.

"You didn't guess?" Soonyoung asks. He has the same casual arrogance that Jeonghan has – it probably comes with having control over the criminal underground – but where Jeonghan is almost lazy in his easy poise, eyes half-lidded and smile slow, Soonyoung is crackling with energy. It feels like the faintest spark could set him off, something that keeps Jisoo on edge, too, and has him stepping cautiously through the conversation.

"I suppose I didn't want to assume," Jisoo says. "You're here on Jeonghan's orders, aren't you?"

Soonyoung grins, a wide, feral thing that narrows his eyes into slits. "I don't follow anyone else's orders."

Jisoo turns this information over in his head. Jeonghan gone, but leaving his right-hand man to…follow Jisoo? Watch him? _Stay out of trouble, sweetheart,_ echoes again in his ears. He certainly suspects the reason why Soonyoung is here, but he asks anyway, just to be sure.

"What does he want you to do?"

Unlike Jeonghan, Soonyoung has no reservations about rolling his eyes. "Make sure you get to and from work safe. He's _attached,_ " he says, drawling the last word and looking extremely entertained at the thought.

 _To and from work._ "Were you following me this morning, too?"

"'Course I was." There isn't an ounce of shame or hesitation in Soonyoung's voice. "You didn't notice, did you?"

Jisoo stays silent. Soonyoung doesn't particularly seem to care. His knife disappears somewhere at his waist and he swings himself up onto the streetlamp nearest Jisoo with his feet balanced on the protruding edge of the pedestal. Jisoo starts as Soonyoung leans out towards him, holding onto the pole with one hand. It makes him loom over Jisoo physically and in presence.

"See, I keep telling Jeonghan that you're a liability," Soonyoung continues. "You need to be more observant. Don't take it personally."

Jisoo doesn't have anything to say to that. He feels the stirrings of exasperation in him again and does his best to keep his face impassive in spite of it, but not because of Soonyoung's words. Jisoo's not completely helpless; he's lived in big cities his entire life and he knows how to stay out of trouble – for the most part, anyway, he thinks dryly as he remembers his first few meetings with Jeonghan. Jeonghan has shown up at the end of his shifts before and though he's never admitted it outright, Jisoo suspects Jeonghan does it whenever something happens that gives him reason to be concerned for Jisoo's safety. For him to be gone, though, dealing with some conflict among his ranks, tasking his right-hand man with tailing Jisoo whenever he's on the streets because he can't be there himself, is an unprecedented extreme.

"Why are you following me?" Jisoo almost demands, pulling himself back just in time to stop the irritation from trickling into his voice. He has the feeling that Soonyoung knows, though, because he raises his eyebrows briefly at Jisoo.

"Orders." Soonyoung doesn't elaborate. The way his eyes shine with mirth makes Jisoo certain that he knows just how much Jisoo is fighting his frustration.

"But _why?_ He's been gone before and he's never – unless –" Jisoo cuts himself off, uncertain.

"No, this is a new arrangement," says Soonyoung. He lets go of the streetlight and lands lightly on his feet. His knife reappears between his fingers and he spins it so fast that it becomes a blur of metal. It makes Jisoo dizzy just to watch him; he moves so quickly and never seems to stop. "I'd never agree to make this a habit. Not that it really matters whether or not I agree."

"Jeonghan doesn't listen to you?" Jisoo asks, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Soonyoung laughs, bright and loud, the sound bouncing off the buildings lining the street. "He doesn’t listen to _anyone_ about you. Not me, not Hao." He throws the knife up into the air and catches it with two fingers, letting it swing like a pendulum in his loose grip. "Pity, because I keep telling him that he's not doing you any favours."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jisoo makes an effort to look into Soonyoung's face, but his eyes keep slipping back to the hypnotic sway of the knife. He doesn't particularly want to think about what Soonyoung's dexterity with it implies – not right now, anyway.

"You don't know why he's gone, do you?"

Jisoo raises his eyebrows. "I don't suppose you'd tell me."

" _Orders,_ " Soonyoung singsongs. He shakes his head at Jisoo in what seems to be mock disappointment that he's even bothered to ask. "He's the boss. If he doesn't want you to know, then you don't get to know."

Jisoo sighs inwardly. It isn't as if he expected any other answer from Soonyoung. He resolves to question Jeonghan as soon as he gets back, already making plans for how best to get him into a talkative mood. He's torn on whether the conversation with Soonyoung has been enlightening or even more confusing, before deciding that it's been at least marginally helpful in confirming his vague suspicions: that something is going on that's far more significant than the little Jeonghan's said so far, and that Jeonghan is concerned about Jisoo's safety in the city. It's enough. For now, at least.

Jisoo turns to head back to the main street and only makes it two steps before Soonyoung appears in front of him. He stops in his tracks, too perplexed at Soonyoung's apparent ability to manifest silently at will to be startled.

"This way is shorter," Soonyoung says.

Jisoo glances down the crooked street with the cracks in the road and the potholes still half-filled with water from yesterday afternoon's rain. The street beyond it is just as dimly lit and isn't one that Jisoo has ever been on before. "I thought your job was to keep me safe?"

"I'd be able to keep you safe just fine." Soonyoung sounds offended at the very implication. He makes a sweeping gesture down the side street, cocking his head to the side expectantly.

Jisoo shakes his head, his lips twitching a little despite himself when Soonyoung sighs. Despite his theatrics, though, Soonyoung falls into step beside Jisoo, apparently no longer bothering with staying hidden. They're the same height, Jisoo realizes a little belatedly, now that Soonyoung is still and calm enough for him to actually take a proper look at him. Soonyoung isn't particularly physically intimidating at all, actually, but then again, neither is Jeonghan. Jisoo is certain that Soonyoung could subdue him with ease if he wanted to.

"You're no fun," Soonyoung complains, his knife disappearing back into his waistband as they approach the main street.

Jisoo hastily sidesteps someone walking in the opposite direction as them, ducking his head in an apology. "I've been working for hours," he says to Soonyoung. "I'm tired." And he can't completely dismiss his irritation with Jeonghan's tendencies, either. All he wants to do is head back to the apartment and curl up on the couch – no, he wants answers from Jeonghan beyond his vague responses in the name of Jisoo's safety, and Soonyoung's presence is a constant reminder of that. "Jeonghan probably wouldn't approve of _fun,_ either," he says, repressing a huff of exasperation.

Soonyoung rolls his eyes again. "Jeonghan's plenty of fun. Just not when it comes to you." He considers Jisoo, his face briefly thoughtful. "He's attached," he repeats. "It's embarrassing. I could be hunting people down, but instead I'm babysitting."

"Yes," Jisoo says dryly. "How exhausting it must be to walk for forty minutes a day, tailing someone who isn't trying to lose you and protecting someone who isn't a target. You have all my sympathy."

Soonyoung laughs delightedly, loud enough that a few bystanders look around, but he doesn't seem to notice or care. "I can see why he likes you."

The observation pleases Jisoo more than it probably should, especially considering that he's still irritated with Jeonghan and the situation in general.

"I take it back," says Soonyoung. "You _can_ be fun. Jeonghan should tell you more. I think I like having you around."

Jisoo finds that he doesn't really mind talking to Soonyoung, especially when Soonyoung smiles in a way that puffs up his cheeks, making Jisoo realize that he can't be any older than Jisoo. It's certainly helped by his words – _Jeonghan should tell you more._ It's not exactly Soonyoung's fault that Jeonghan is so unforthcoming, and it's possible that Jeonghan has a good reason for it, too. Jisoo is still bristling at the implication that he's too helpless to manage himself in the city, but he'll tolerate it because he knows that this one doesn't work quite like the ones he's lived in before. As long as Jeonghan gives him a good reason, that is.

Despite the circumstances, his walk back to the apartment is more enjoyable than it usually is. Soonyoung isn't bad company. Jisoo doesn't have very many friends in the city; he hasn't lived here very long and his work hours are odd enough that it's hard to find time to socialize to any comprehensive degree, so his conversation is limited to a few friendly acquaintances and his colleagues. He might even thank Jeonghan, as soon as he extricates an adequate explanation from him.

Soonyoung accompanies him to the lobby of the apartment and even the elevator, his blond hair blindingly bright under the fancy lighting. Jisoo wonders aloud if Jeonghan expects him to be kidnapped in the elevator and Soonyoung laughs his unexpectedly infectious laugh, though Jisoo's eyes narrow when he realizes that he doesn't actually respond. Soonyoung waves him off when Jisoo reaches for the key to his apartment, producing his own copy out of nowhere and waving Jisoo into the apartment.

"By the way," Soonyoung says, making Jisoo pause from where he's hanging up his coat and turn back. His voice is different, more serious and without a trace of the glee that's been in his expression in some form or another for the past half hour. He's leaning in the open doorway, watching Jisoo with an expression on his face that he can't decipher. "You're wrong. You might not be a target yet, but it's only a matter of time. Jeonghan's one, and that means sooner or later, you will be, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i did not write soonyoung well but the idea was for him to be vaguely unhinged because his energy in all of the don't lie episodes was just pure chaos and simply unparalleled. also soonyoung just calls jeonghan His Name which i…have no real reason for but you may imagine a scenario in which soonyoung used to call jeonghan 'hyung' until jeonghan one day just went "there's no need for that here just call me jeonghan".
> 
> also jeonghan and joshua's pinky promise in inside svt i'm crying
> 
> catch me on twitter @_blueshi where you can yell at me if i don't follow my update schedule lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sweetheart," Jeonghan says. His voice is as smooth as it always is, but when he opens his arms up, the muscles in his face tighten infinitesimally.
> 
> "You're hurt, aren't you?" Jisoo recognizes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i'm NOT going to keep writing about sex  
> this fic: is currently mostly sex
> 
> warning for descriptions of blood (more graphic than last time and also it's jeonghan not some unnamed oc). he is perfectly fine, relatively speaking, just a little sliced up. also i have no idea how mafia dealings actually work. we operate under the assumption that people have like, knives when they get mad.
> 
> currently resisting the urge to start yet another wip but really it's jeonghan and joshua's fault because what else am i supposed to do when i see jeonghan with his head in joshua's lap ok

It's a quiet, idle sort of evening. Jisoo stretches his arms up above his head and settles back into his position on the couch, pulling his loose sweatshirt down from where it's ridden up around his stomach and tucking his legs up on his seat. He turns a page in his book and takes his time perusing the words. A glance at the clock on the wall tells him that it's late, but he doesn't have a shift tomorrow or the day after and as tired as his muscles are, his mind is still wide awake.

Jisoo startles at the sound of the door opening and this time, his jolt is accompanied by confusion. His eyebrows draw together and he twists in the direction of the door, wondering for a brief moment if Soonyoung has for some reason returned. It doesn't really make sense, but it makes even less sense for Minghao to have shown up unexpectedly.

"Jeonghan?" He calls uncertainly.

Jeonghan steps in through the door and smiles at him with his characteristic half-smirk, but something about it is off. There are faint shadows beneath his eyes and his jaw is tensed. When he closes the door behind him, his movements are less elegant than they usually are, his shoulders stiff under the sharp lines of his suit jacket.

"Sweetheart," Jeonghan says. His voice is as smooth as it always is, but when he opens his arms up, the muscles in his face tighten infinitesimally.

"You're hurt, aren't you?" Jisoo recognizes.

He sets his book down and stands up, immediately making his way over to Jeonghan. He's torn between his clinical work persona and his concern for his lover, making his chest flutter a little with indecision as he reaches for Jeonghan.

Jeonghan catches his outstretched hand in his and presses it to his lips, waving his other hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's nothing serious."

Jisoo flushes, caught off-guard as he often is with Jeonghan. Jeonghan's lips are soft against his skin and his smile is playful behind Jisoo's fingers and for a moment, Jisoo is charmed enough to let his anxiousness dissipate a little. It doesn't last long; Jeonghan brushes his thumb over the back of Jisoo's hand and the feeling of the supple leather of Jeonghan's gloves jerks him back into the moment.

"Let me see," Jisoo insists.

Jeonghan opens his mouth as if to protest, but at a stern look from Jisoo, he shakes his head without saying anything. He allows Jisoo to lead him to the couch and at a motion from Jisoo, sits down on it without resistance. Jeonghan's walking normally, with no hint of a limp, and from the tight line of his shoulders, Jisoo guesses that Jeonghan's injury is somewhere on his torso. He stays still as Jisoo cautiously undoes the buttons of his suit jacket, watching him behind an expression of casual interest.

Jisoo hesitates before pulling open Jeonghan's jacket, anxious at the thought of what he might find underneath. It's different, checking on someone he cares about compared to a patient in the sterile, impersonal emergency room. He knows rationally that Jeonghan isn't seriously injured, especially not compared to most of the patients he saw earlier that day. But even the prospect of Jeonghan being hurt makes him upset, an emotion that only intensifies when he opens Jeonghan's suit jacket.

Jeonghan's shirt is torn in a few places. The biggest one is a jagged rip that slashes diagonally from his left shoulder down to the top of his right ribcage. It's hard to tell with the dark material, but patches of it glisten wet under the light. When Jisoo touches his fingers to the tear in Jeonghan's shirt, they come away red and sticky with half-dried blood.

"It's not as bad as it looks," says Jeonghan.

"I'll be the judge of that," Jisoo retorts. Distress rises up in his throat and he swallows it down, determinedly pushing himself back into as detached a mindset as he can. Maybe he should be used to this, or at least starting to become used to it, because this certainly isn't the first time Jeonghan has come to him injured. But every time it happens, the hot, tight ball of anxiety just grows larger in his chest.

Jisoo carefully unbuttons Jeonghan's shirt, glancing up at his face every few seconds to make sure that he isn't being too rough, even though all he wants is to tear off Jeonghan's shirt to make sure he's okay. Jeonghan watches Jisoo's hands at his chest, not Jisoo's face, even when Jisoo looks up at him.

Jeonghan tenses when Jisoo touches his fingers to his skin. The skin is hot, not quite feverish but certainly warmer than it should be, especially around the slash on Jeonghan's chest. It's not particularly deep, but it's a long gash that's still bleeding sluggishly, the skin around it puffed up and red. Jeonghan's been hurt for a while, it seems, because there's congealed blood sticking the edges of the laceration haphazardly together and dried blood flakes away on Jisoo's hands when he examines Jeonghan's chest. His hands go still on Jeonghan's skin, his palms flattening against the plane of Jeonghan's body. He focuses on the steady rise-and-fall of Jeonghan's chest as he reminds himself that this is nothing he can't handle.

Jisoo exhales long and slow, gathering himself back together. "Keep putting pressure on it," Jisoo instructs Jeonghan, gathering up Jeonghan's ruined shirt and handing it to him. Jeonghan complies, pressing the bunched-up material to his wound. "And don't move," Jisoo adds as he rises from the couch.

Jisoo grabs his kit from the downstairs bathroom, which is always well-stocked, both out of habit and in preparation for nights like these. He slips his jewelry off and slides it into his pocket, not willing to take even the slightest risk on contamination. There are clean washcloths on the towel rack; he takes one and runs it under the faucet for a few seconds before wringing it out, leaving it damp with cool water.  
  
Alone in the bathroom, Jisoo closes his eyes and inhales deeply, trying to dissolve some of the tension in his chest. It works, if only marginally, so that his worry is a little less stifling. He focuses on his hands, the damp washcloth in them, and tries not to think about Jeonghan's blood staining the white material red.

He settles back on the couch next to Jeonghan, who is still holding the makeshift bandage to his chest. Jeonghan allows him to pull his arms down and expose his skin, smeared with blood. The bleeding, at least, seems to have stopped for the most part.

Jeonghan doesn't resist as Jisoo runs the washcloth over his body, clearing away the fresh and dried smudges of blood. He avoids the cut itself for now, focusing on cleaning Jeonghan's body, feeling his jaw tighten every time he finds another bruise on Jeonghan's skin. Most of them are already dark and purpling on his skin, hours old, which makes Jisoo wonder unhappily again how long Jeonghan has been injured.

He sets the damp washcloth aside and flips open the kit, reaching for the antiseptic. The sharp scent fills the air as soon as Jisoo uncaps the bottle. The apartment smells like the hospital now, the metallic scent of blood beneath the overpowering antiseptic burning in his nose. It helps, a little, to keep his head clear and steady.

Jeonghan lets out a short hiss when the antiseptic touches his open wound, jerking backwards in reflex. Jisoo murmurs an apology but Jeonghan shakes his head, already settling back into his original position. His muscles are tensed and he twitches whenever Jisoo has to rub at the hardened splotches of blood, but he stays remarkably silent the entire time even though Jisoo knows it must sting.

"Anywhere else?" Jisoo asks, keeping his voice at a murmur because he doesn't think he'll be able to keep it steady if he speaks any louder.

"No," says Jeonghan. "One of them took me by surprise, that's all."

Jisoo presses his lips tightly together, not trusting himself to respond. Jeonghan glances at him and seems to notice Jisoo's expression, reaching out to take his hand, which is still clutching the antiseptic-soaked cloth.

"It's not that bad," Jeonghan says again. "There were just more of them than I was expecting."

Jisoo can feel Jeonghan looking at his face but keeps his gaze fixed on the open kit on the table in front of the couch.

"Sweetheart," Jeonghan says, his voice coaxing. "Don't be mad. I knew what I was doing. I had to let one of them cut me up a bit so I could get to the other one."

Jisoo exhales. "Couldn't you have not let them cut you up at all?"

"Well, it was between the one with the knife and the one with a gun. I'm sure you prefer this over a hole in me."

Jeonghan's tone is light and playful and against Jisoo's wishes, his lips twitch upwards a little. The tension starts to dissipate from his body and his muscles relax slightly. Jeonghan is fine. Injured, but nothing Jisoo can't treat himself, and none the worse for wear. His hand on Jisoo's is warm and familiar, and he's _here,_ in the apartment, instead of bleeding out on the streets.

Jeonghan rubs his thumb over the back of Jisoo's hand before letting go. Jisoo almost moves take his hand back, wanting to feel the warm weight of Jeonghan's hand on his, but he shakes it off, frustrated with himself and reaches for a roll of gauze from the kit and deftly unwinds it. He's a mess today, getting upset and distracted at the slightest things.

"I prefer you intact, actually," Jisoo says as he secures the gauze around Jeonghan's chest.

Jeonghan's low laughter vibrates beneath his hands. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jisoo tightens the bandages, careful not to tug too hard in case he causes Jeonghan pain. When Jisoo looks up, he finds himself face-to-face with Jeonghan, who is gazing down at him with such transparent affection that it makes him flush, taken aback. He makes to drop his eyes back down to the bandages, but before he can, Jeonghan takes his chin gently in his hand and tips his face back up. His touch is insistent but soft, like the expression on his face.

"I'll be careful," Jeonghan murmurs, his breath warm on Jisoo's face. "For you, sweetheart."

Jeonghan kisses him, soft, persuading, trying to coax him out of his lingering unhappiness. Jisoo lets him, melting against the familiar feel of Jeonghan's lips against his. When Jeonghan tries to pull him closer, though, Jisoo pulls away, smiling a little despite himself at Jeonghan's sound of protest.

"Stop distracting me," Jisoo tells Jeonghan, who huffs but obeys, settling back on the couch.

Jisoo readjusts the bandages on Jeonghan's chest, making sure they won't shift when he moves. He allows himself a moment of satisfaction at the neat, clean white bandages bound securely around Jeonghan's chest, a now-ingrained reaction after years of medical school and months at the hospital. As he skims his hand over the gauze, his hand brushes against the edge of a bruise, prominent against Jeonghan's otherwise unblemished skin.

"Should get some ice on those bruises," he notes.

Jeonghan makes a dismissive gesture with a hand. "It's fine, they don't hurt."

"They'll heal faster if you ice them."

"I've waited for long enough already," Jeonghan says. He sits up and reaches for Jisoo, one hand flattened on Jisoo's shoulder blade and the other resting on Jisoo's lower back. Jisoo shivers at his touch, electricity sparking across his skin.

"I want you," Jeonghan breathes.

Jisoo is so lost in the exhilarating haze that comes with everything about Jeonghan that he doesn't remember the injury until Jeonghan makes to take Jisoo's shirt off. With a staggering effort, Jisoo manages to find the willpower to pull himself away from Jeonghan.

"I'm not going to let you reopen that cut after I spent all that time treating it."

He intends for it to come out stern, but with his breathlessness and no-doubt flushed cheeks, he doubts it comes out that way. Jeonghan looks as if he couldn't possibly care less about his injury. He reaches out again for the hem of Jisoo's shirt and looks so disappointed when Jisoo gently pushes his hands away that Jisoo can't help but let out a huff of still-breathless laughter.

Despite his reluctant amusement, there's still a tightness in his chest that refuses to leave. He contemplates shaking his head and shifting away from Jeonghan, letting Jeonghan know that he's still upset with him and his injury and being followed the entire day and everything about the situation in general. It's a bitter thought that lasts only a few moments before he discards it. He _wants_ Jeonghan. He wants to feel Jeonghan firm and solid beneath his hands, he wants to hear Jeonghan murmur filthy things in his ears, he wants to forget the anxiety and faint betrayal that hovers sour around his thoughts in the hot passion of Jeonghan's body against his. Sex, at least, is something familiar, something Jisoo can navigate with certainty and ease.

Jisoo tugs his shirt over his head so that both of them are bare-chested. He lets his shirt slip out of his slack fingers and onto the ground and he follows, nestling himself on his knees between Jeonghan's legs. Jeonghan watches, his lips quirked in a way that lets Jisoo know that he's intrigued. His gaze is riveted on Jisoo, taking in every flicker of movement and every detail on his body, and Jisoo is filled with a fierce satisfaction that he's able to captivate the most enthralling man he's ever known.

The material of Jeonghan's pants is sleek and well-fitting and hides absolutely none of his arousal straining through them. Jisoo undoes the zipper of Jeonghan's pants, the sound loud in the relative quiet of the apartment.

"I thought you weren't going to let me reopen my cut, Dr. Hong?"

Jeonghan's voice is amused and absurdly controlled, in abject contrast to his erection straining at the fabric of his underwear only inches away from Jisoo's face. Jisoo takes a moment to be incredulous at Jeonghan's pervasive composure before he pulls Jeonghan's underwear down to his well-muscled thighs. Jeonghan's erection springs free, stiff and already leaking, and the entire time Jeonghan's faint smile only widens slightly, his breathing remaining even and steady.

"I won't," says Jisoo. "So you better stay still."

He leans down and touches his tongue to the tip of Jeonghan's cock, feeling Jeonghan's legs twitch on either side of him. Jisoo looks up into Jeonghan's face, pleased to see that his eyes have widened slightly and his lips have parted in surprise. A second later, though, Jeonghan's expression is relaxed and casual again, the picture of cool elegance.

Jisoo takes it as a challenge. He wants to be the reason why Jeonghan loses his composure and comes apart because Jeonghan is almost infuriatingly serene and unruffled despite the fact that his arousal is clear in Jisoo's face and, all right, maybe Jisoo is a little angry. It's infuriating, that Jeonghan has the audacity to stroll into the apartment injured without any notice and still manage to tease Jisoo, to refuse to tell him about his endeavours and still have him _followed_ because of them.

Jisoo turns his face to Jeonghan's inner thigh and mouths at it, flicking his eyes up to see Jeonghan's reaction as he sucks _hard,_ hopefully hard enough to leave a mark, determined to keep a reminder of himself on Jeonghan's skin. Jeonghan doesn't make a sound, but Jisoo feels his muscles twitch under his mouth and feels a sharp gratification because of it. He turns his attention to Jeonghan's shaft and licks a line down it, the taste musky and a little salty on his tongue, not entirely pleasant but nothing particularly intolerable. He marvels a little at the fact that this has been buried in his ass; Jeonghan is _very_ big from this close up and he's only half-hard.

Jisoo steels himself, swallowing hard in preparation, and takes Jeonghan's cock in his mouth. It hardens and swells in Jisoo's mouth before he's barely halfway down, but he doesn't stop. He slackens his jaw and goes further down, ignoring his already-aching muscles until his mouth is full with Jeonghan's swollen, heavy length.

There's a sharp inhale from somewhere above him. Jisoo glances up, his eyes watering and breathing heavily through his nose. Jeonghan is still sitting languid and relaxed against the couch, but his eyes are very dark, arousal blowing his pupils out and swallowing up his irises. The sight makes Jisoo hum with satisfaction, his lips vibrate around Jeonghan's cock, and this, at last, makes Jeonghan let out a curse that deepens into a groan.

When they're like this, Jisoo can forget all the implications of Jeonghan's illicit activities. Jeonghan never falls apart the way Jisoo does while they fuck, but Jisoo can make his breath hitch in his throat, can make him groan low in his throat and his muscles tighten. When Jeonghan looks at him while they fuck, Jisoo can lose himself into the intoxicating allure of his gaze and the possessiveness of his touch, can make himself ignore all the reasons why he shouldn't be with Jeonghan in favour of the enticing thrill that accompanies them.

Lowering his eyes back to Jeonghan's cock, Jisoo withdraws a little, panting to catch his breath. Jeonghan's cock is glistening with Jisoo's saliva and fully erect now. He's eager to hear that sound from Jeonghan again, the roughness in his voice and the not-quite-stifled curses, and he's a little too hasty when he slides his mouth back down on Jeonghan's length. He chokes down on it, spluttering a little when he feels Jeonghan at the back of his throat.

He feels a soft but insistent touch on his chin. Jeonghan lifts his face upwards as much as he can manage with Jisoo's mouth still around his length, looking into his eyes. He strokes Jisoo's cheek with his thumb, his eyes half-lidded and very dark, a smile playing at his lips.

Jisoo's eyes are watering and he's breathing hard through his nose, and if his jaw wasn't aching around Jeonghan's cock, he would be panting for breath. He pulls back again, leaving a line of saliva trailing from his mouth to Jeonghan's shaft and lowers his stinging eyes to the ground. He coughs once and reaches up his hand to swipe at his teary eyes and his mouth, wet with excess spit.

"Look at me," Jeonghan says, his voice a low purr, and Jisoo obeys, lifting his gaze back up into Jeonghan's face. "Sweetheart," he murmurs. "You look so pretty like this."

Jisoo burns with satisfaction and pleasure, his entire body is flushed with it. It's a little shameful, maybe, how easily a few words from Jeonghan can make arousal twitch between his legs. He ignores it for now in favour of going down on Jeonghan's cock again, taking as much of him in his mouth as he can. The part he can't reach, he wraps his hand around. He coughs and gags his way down until his closed fingers are touching his lips.

Jeonghan twists his fingers in Jisoo's hair, eliciting a moan from Jisoo that's muffled by Jeonghan's hardness in his mouth.

"Look at me, sweetheart," Jeonghan demands again. "I want to see your face."

Obligingly, Jisoo lifts his face up as much as he can manage, blinking hard when his eyes sting. Jeonghan brushes at the skin beneath his eyes, at the tears threatening to spill over as Jisoo coughs around Jeonghan's length.

"So pretty," Jeonghan echoes.

Jisoo sucks hard, hollowing out his cheeks. When he withdraws again, panting, Jeonghan's cock is slick and with a sheen of wetness. His hand works at the base of Jeonghan's cock, his mouth at the shaft, flicking his tongue out to lap at the tip whenever he pulls back and sliding it down Jeonghan's length when he takes him in his mouth again. He's aching to palm at the hardness between his legs, straining at his pants, but he's already unsteady on his knees and he thinks that if he takes his hand off from where it's clamped around Jeonghan's thigh, he might simply collapse.

Jeonghan pulls at his hair, sending a jolt through Jisoo's scalp that makes him moan around Jeonghan's cock. Jeonghan's breathing is rough, now, ragged at the edges. When Jisoo gags around Jeonghan's length again, Jeonghan's fingers twist in his hair and Jisoo is absurdly triumphant in the knowledge that it's his mouth that has Jeonghan swollen and hard, every lap of his tongue making Jeonghan shudder.

" _Sweetheart,_ " Jeonghan groans.

It's all the warning Jisoo gets before Jeonghan comes a second later in Jisoo's mouth. Jisoo chokes on the unexpected sensation, his nose burning. He swallows it down, mostly refraining from making a face but unable to stop his nose from twitching at the salty, slightly bitter taste that lingers in his mouth. There's a trail of it down his chin, mingling with his saliva as he slides his mouth off Jeonghan's cock and sits back on his heels, coughing.

Jeonghan reaches out and swipes his fingers over Jisoo's chin before Jisoo has any time to think. He nudges them against Jisoo's lips, elegant, almost lazy, at odds with the intensity of his gaze.

"Open," Jeonghan commands. Jisoo has no clever retort for this, not when his mouth is still overwhelmed with the taste of Jeonghan and he has tear tracks drying on his face. He parts his lips and Jeonghan slips his slim fingers in his mouth.

"Suck," he says.

The sensation of Jeonghan's fingers in his mouth is very different to Jeonghan's cock in his mouth and somehow, this feels even more indecent. He swirls his tongue around Jeonghan's fingers, sucking them thoroughly clean, kneeling between Jeonghan's legs while Jeonghan lounges back on the couch, the ghost of a smirk playing on his cool features. Jisoo doesn't think he would do this for anyone else, has never before even contemplated anything like this for any of his past partners – but this is different, somehow. It's undeniably lewd and yet, Jisoo can't find it in himself to feel ashamed because while Jisoo laps Jeonghan's come from his fingers, Jeonghan croons praises and endearments to him and gazes at him as if he's the only thing that matters in the world.

Jeonghan slips his fingers out of Jisoo's mouth, now slick with Jisoo's saliva with a soft, wet sound. Jisoo feels a little hazy with a mixture of conflicting emotions, the most prominent of them being arousal. For a few seconds, he can't think of anything to do but look up at Jeonghan, growing steadily more aware of the hardness between his legs.

"Come here, sweetheart."

Jisoo stands a little unsteadily. "I told you –"

"I know, I'll be careful. Come here."

Jeonghan pulls Jisoo down into his lap. Jisoo makes an effort not to be too rough, reminded of Jeonghan's injury when his hand brushes against the bandages around Jeonghan's chest. Jeonghan doesn't seem particularly interested in taking things slow, though; he pulls Jisoo's pants down with one hand and discards them on the ground. Jisoo's arousal, now free, moves abruptly to the forefront of his mind so that every touch of Jeonghan's skin against his makes him shiver and his entire body feels hot and restless.

Jeonghan takes Jisoo half-hard cock in his hand, his fingers still slick with Jisoo's saliva. Jisoo inhales sharply at his touch, stiffening on Jeonghan's lap.

"You're so pretty," Jeonghan purrs. "And you're mine, aren't you?"

Jisoo spasms as Jeonghan strokes his saliva-slick hand down Jisoo's length. He hardens so quickly that it aches, so intensely that he feels light-headed and intoxicated on Jeonghan's touch. Jeonghan pulls him down into a kiss, his hand still working at Jisoo's hardness. His mouth is aggressive against Jisoo's, hungry and demanding, as if he's searching for his own taste in Jisoo's mouth. Arousal builds in Jisoo, pooling between his legs, eliciting high-pitched cries from somewhere within his throat and making his entire body shudder.

" _Jeonghan,_ " Jisoo gasps. "I'm going to –"

Jisoo's back arches as he comes, spilling over in Jeonghan's closed fist. Jeonghan lets go of his cock but keeps an arm around his waist as he shudders with the aftershocks of his release. Jisoo slumps against the couch, spent and breathless with the sound of Jeonghan still crooning praises in his ear.

\--

"Are you going to tell me, then?"

The question hangs between them. Jisoo doesn't elaborate – _why you're back so early, why you're injured, why you left to begin with_ – but from the way Jeonghan's mouth tightens, he knows that Jeonghan understands what he's asking.

Jeonghan shifts on the bed, withdrawing slightly so that their faces are level with each other. "I told you. You don't have to worry about it."

"Worried I can't handle it?"

It comes out sharper than Jisoo expected. Jeonghan's eyes darken, not with desire like they were an hour ago, but with something similar to the hardness in his gaze the first time they met, when he was standing over a man dead by his own hands. Despite his irritation, the expression makes Jisoo feel ill at ease. He doesn't like it; that coldness in Jeonghan's eyes feels like it belongs to Jeonghan prowling the streets, not Jeonghan lying in bed with him with his arms curled warm and solid around him. Jisoo reaches up to brush his fingers across the curve of Jeonghan's cheekbone and is relieved when Jeonghan's body relaxes beside his.

"I'm just keeping you out of trouble," Jeonghan says. "These people are dangerous."

He sounds serious and grim and very unlike both his teasing self and his aloof persona. A ripple of unease runs through Jisoo's body and his regular retort about being able to handle himself dies on the tip of his tongue. He's never seen Jeonghan without some measure of the wry, private amusement that always thrums in his voice and glints in his eyes. His grip is tight on Jisoo, not tight enough to be constricting but enough that Jisoo thinks he can understand that Jeonghan really does believe what he's saying.

"Well," says Jisoo, making an attempt at levity. "I don't know if you've heard, but I know someone even more dangerous. He runs the entire city, in fact."

The grim look doesn't quite clear from Jeonghan's eyes, but it fades a little and his lips twitch upwards. "He sounds interesting. You want to tell me about him?"

"Mm." Jisoo hums and shifts closer to Jeonghan on the bed, tucking his face against Jeonghan's uninjured shoulder. "He's charming. Very handsome," he adds, his lips curving upwards when Jeonghan preens. "Sometimes infuriating," he adds pointedly. He looks up at Jeonghan and raises his eyebrows. "You know, you could at least tell me if you're going to have someone follow me."

A month or two ago, Jisoo might have described the look on Jeonghan's face as mutinous, but now, he can't help but think of it as sulky, and it makes him stifle a laugh.

"Soonyoung wasn't supposed to talk to you."

"Did you tell him not to?"

Jeonghan huffs. "Well, it was implied, but Soonyoung does things the way he wants to."

From what little Jisoo knows of Soonyoung, that certainly seems accurate enough. He's not willing to be distracted this time around, though, not when Jeonghan finally seems to be inclined to talk.

He draws back a little and cranes his neck so that he's looking up into Jeonghan's eyes. "Were you going to keep it a secret from me forever?"

Jeonghan has the grace to look guilty. "I wasn't – something came up," he says. "You were asleep when I gave Soonyoung his orders. I was going to tell you when I got back."

It must show on Jisoo's face that he's unimpressed, because Jeonghan's face falls. He runs his hand down Jisoo's arm coaxingly, taking Jisoo's wrist and rubbing his thumb over his skin.

"Sweetheart?"

Jisoo doesn't move out of Jeonghan's arms but neither does he respond to Jeonghan's attempts to twine their fingers together.

"Sweetheart, please." Jeonghan takes Jisoo's hand and it stays there, unresisting and limp in his grip. "Jisoo," Jeonghan tries, and it's his name that makes Jisoo deflate. Jeonghan isn't attempting to charm him into avoiding the matter at hand. This time, at least, Jeonghan is sincere.

"Fine, I believe you," Jisoo sighs. "Just – leave a note, or something, next time."

Jeonghan's expression tells him that he would very much rather there not be a next time. It quickly melts away, though, when Jisoo interlocks their fingers. Jeonghan's hand is warm in his, his touch soft and affectionate, and it's hard to imagine that Jeonghan had anything but honest intentions, as much as Jisoo is still a little irritated with the execution.

"Soonyoung was supposed to leave you alone," Jeonghan says, an apology in his voice.

"I don't mind," Jisoo says, and finds that he really doesn't. "I liked talking to him. I think I did, anyway, after I got past the fact he was there. He thinks you should tell me more, by the way," he adds pointedly.

Instead of sighing in resignation, as Jisoo expects, Jeonghan lets out a huff of laughter. "He's one to talk."

Jisoo raises his eyebrows, his curiosity sparked. "Does he have a secret lover tucked away somewhere, too?"

"You're not a secret," Jeonghan says, looking genuinely affronted. "Minghao and Soonyoung both know about you."

Jisoo smiles despite himself, only able to half-suppress his laugh at the expression on Jeonghan's face. He extricates his arm from where it's pinned beneath his body and rests it on the bare skin on Jeonghan's chest, taking care to avoid the bandages diagonal across it.

"All right, I'm not a secret," Jisoo agrees. He skims his hand over Jeonghan's chest, pleased when Jeonghan lightly squeezes their clasped hands in response. "What do you mean about Soonyoung?"

The ever-present glimmer of amusement is back in Jeonghan's voice. "He's been hanging around with someone lately. University student. Won't admit he's interested in him, but I can tell. Soonyoung won't tell him what he really does. He thinks it'll scare him off."

Jisoo lets out a huff of exasperation. "Well, then, you both have your issues. Except _you_ can tell me what you're doing." Jeonghan looks like he's about to object, so Jisoo continues. "If I was going to be scared off, it would've happened already. I saw you kill a man the day we met." _And what that says about me, I don't know,_ Jisoo thinks wryly.

"You saw him die after I shot him," says Jeonghan. "Technically."

Jisoo really does laugh out loud this time. He presses his face in the space between Jeonghan's neck and shoulder and feels Jeonghan's hum of pleasure vibrate through his throat.

"Well, I saw a man die because of you, then," amends Jisoo. "And now I'm your lover, aren't I?"

Tucked into the crook of Jeonghan's neck, Jisoo can't see Jeonghan's expression, but he feels Jeonghan's arms tighten around him. Neither of them says anything for a while. Jisoo traces idle patterns on Jeonghan's chest, taking comfort in the steady rise and fall of his chest. It feels oddly mundane and domestic, pressed up against his lover's body in their bed with their hands linked together, listening to the sound of his even breathing.

The thing is, Jisoo knows. He knows full well what kind of a person Jeonghan is – he'd be a fool not to. But Jeonghan is charming and handsome and every moment with him feels like a thrill, and he finds himself drawn to Jeonghan more and more by the day. He's never been with anyone that kisses like Jeonghan, mouth hot and searching and his grip on Jisoo so tight that Jisoo can't imagine him ever letting go, and he's never felt himself fragment in someone's arms the way he can't help but do with Jeonghan.

Jisoo is the one that breaks the slightly sleepy silence between them.

"Are you staying?"

Jeonghan hum turns contemplative. "I wasn't planning on coming back. I need to talk to Soonyoung and Minghao before I leave."

"How long are you staying away this time?"

Jisoo can't help the concern that seeps into his voice. Jeonghan pulls his face away just enough to be able to kiss Jisoo, his lips soft and coaxing against Jisoo's.

"Worried about me?" He murmurs against Jisoo's mouth.

Jisoo kisses back, fitting their mouths together in a way that's very different from the searing ones an hour prior. He allows himself to melt into Jeonghan's arms for a few endless moments, his eyes fluttering shut in contentment.

When both of them draw away to breathe, Jisoo touches the tips of his fingers to Jeonghan's bandages, fixing him with as stern a look as he can manage.

"Be careful not to reopen that," Jisoo warns. "If it gets infected –"

"Yes, doctor."

Jeonghan looks and sounds amused, humour glinting in his eyes. Jisoo doesn't want to be the reason why that look leaves his face; something in him turns warm and fond whenever he sees it, but Jeonghan hasn't yet addressed what he _needs_ to know. It's as good a time as any to get answers.

"Things are serious, then. If you're leaving again."

"Look," Jeonghan starts. Jisoo shakes his head and he falls silent with a wince. Jisoo's chest twinges at the look on his face, but he continues anyway.

"You've never been gone this often before," Jisoo says. "You got someone to tail me. You're _injured,_ " and his voice turns tight and unhappy as he glances down at the bandages. "Can't you tell me what's going on?"

"I'm trying to keep you _safe,_ " Jeonghan repeats.

"Wouldn't I be safer if you told me more?"

Jeonghan looks pained. "Not now, sweetheart."

"Then when?" Jisoo demands.

"Please, Jisoo. Just…not now."

Jeonghan always uses endearments for him. He's always been _sweetheart_ to Jeonghan, since before they even knew each other's names. Jeonghan saves _Jisoo_ for the most solemn moments between them; the first time they kissed each other and meant it, the first time he came to Jisoo injured and needing his help, murmured to him when he's about to fall asleep in Jeonghan's arms and breathed against his mouth upon returning after weeks apart. Jeonghan's eyes are open and almost imploring, and he holds Jisoo's hand so tightly that it seems as if he's expecting Jisoo to disappear from his grasp.

Jisoo sighs. "But you'll tell me?"

"If –" Jeonghan seems to struggle with himself, his eyebrows drawn together and the line of his mouth tense. "I'll tell you if I ever need Soonyoung to stay with you," he says finally. "And I'll – I'll let you know when I leave."

Jisoo lets out a long, slow exhale. It's better than nothing, at least.

"Let's not talk about this now," Jeonghan says coaxingly. He reaches his hand up to stroke his fingers through Jisoo's hair. "I can't stay for long. I wanted to see you before I left."

Jisoo hesitates for a moment before leaning into his touch. "Well, I'm here, aren't I?"

Jeonghan's face relaxes. He lets go of Jisoo's hand to cup his face and kisses him, tender and soft and everything that Jisoo never expected from someone like him. Jisoo slips his arms around Jeonghan's neck and though he kisses back willingly, he can't help but wonder just how long this precarious agreement will last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for some reason every pairing i write about is incapable of having conversations before sex. every goddamn time i write about jeonghan and jisoo having wild sex and then they have like, important conversations. so jisoo is just angsting about their communication issues while sucking jeonghan's dick like h
> 
> catch me on twitter @_blueshi where you get to see some snippets of my other wips that i should NOT be working on because i'm already barely keeping up with this one


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can you tell me a little, at least?" Jisoo asks. "About why they might be…targeting Jeonghan."
> 
> Soonyoung looks thoughtful. "I think I can tell you that," he says finally. "I don’t think he would object."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer i have never been to south korea and i have no idea how the street food markets work so i am working with the knowledge i have accumulated from food and travel blogs and also my experiences at street food markets in china. also i don't know how medical school works in south korea. i don't know how medical school works here, either, which......i feel like i should since like half my friends are pre-med (but in my defense i barely know how my own major works half the time)
> 
> i swear minghao is going to show up soon like......the chapter after the next one he IS going to show up i swear

Jeonghan is gone again when Jisoo wakes up. Jisoo sighs inwardly, resigned, though he's somewhat mollified when he checks his phone and sees that he has a single text from Jeonghan – _Soonyoung is going to be around. Stay out of trouble, sweetheart._ Jeonghan is keeping his word, evidently, though Jisoo still shakes his head in exasperation at the sentiment.

Nothing much is accomplished the entire day. It's always draining when he has shifts back-to-back, so he spends the day relaxing, reading while curled up on the couch and finally cooking instead of ordering in, wondering when Jeonghan will be back whenever his thoughts wander.

But Jeonghan is gone the next day, too, and the next. Jisoo idles in the apartment for longer than usual that evening in the vain hope that Jeonghan will stroll in through the front door at any moment with a coy smile, but after twenty minutes, he has to admit to himself that he needs to get to work.

He makes it about halfway down the street before Soonyoung appears out of nowhere in front of him.

" _Surprise_ ," Soonyoung declares, inches away from Jisoo's face.

Even though Jisoo was expecting him, he still starts so suddenly that he nearly trips backwards, only just managing to throw out his arms in time to catch himself against the side of a building. Soonyoung seems pleased enough with this reaction, grinning at Jisoo as he shakes his head and pushes himself back upright.

"It's nice to see you, too," Jisoo says as dryly as he can manage with his heart still beating a little too fast.

Soonyoung's dressed in form-fitting all-black again, looking as if he's emerged from the shadows themselves. He grins so brightly at Jisoo that he's baffled at how he's managed to tamp down on his wild, crackling energy for long enough to stay unnoticed, and that's before Jisoo even considers his gleaming blond hair, nearly luminescent under the city lights at night.

"What did you even _do_ the past two days," Soonyoung complains as he falls into step beside Jisoo.

"Nothing, really," Jisoo admits. Between medical school, moving to a new city, and his job, he's gotten used to an uneventful social life over the years. At most, he'll go down to the local café down the street or browse the bookstore nearby and make casual conversation with the cashier. "I don't go out much. Jeonghan takes me out sometimes, though, when he's free."

Soonyoung snorts. "I _know_. He makes me and Hao take over when he leaves. You're more trouble than you're worth," he informs Jisoo cheerfully. "Even when you're not there. Jeonghan gets all sulky if he doesn't get to see you every week."

Jisoo is inordinately, probably inappropriately pleased at that. A glance at Soonyoung's face tells him that Soonyoung knows exactly how self-satisfied Jisoo is at the prospect, his grin wide and mischievous. He drops his eyes down instead, his gaze catching on a glimmer at Soonyoung's fingers.

"Like them?" Soonyoung asks. Jisoo blinks, pulling his eyes away from the frankly absurd number of rings on Soonyoung's fingers.

"You weren't wearing those a few days ago, were you? I know," Jisoo says, catching the look on Soonyoung's face. "I'm not observant, I know."

He's fairly sure he would've noticed this, at least, from the sheer number of rings winking at Soonyoung's fingers, a dazzlingly bright band of light every time they pass under the glow of a streetlamp. Everything about Soonyoung is wild and brazen, it seems, from his bright hair to the rings stacked on his fingers, very different to Jeonghan's sleek black suits and cool arrogance.

They stop at an intersection. Soonyoung wiggles his fingers in Jisoo's face, making Jisoo jerk back, startled. The motion makes Soonyoung's sleeves pull up a little on his arms, revealing several glittering bracelets laddered up his wrists.

"I've always had them," Soonyoung says. "I just don't always wear them. I've got more," he tells Jisoo. He seems proud of himself, admiring the way the rings flash under the light, but there's an undercurrent of dark glee in his voice that makes a chill run down Jisoo's spine. "I treat myself to one every time I do a good job."

"What kind of job? What do you do?" Jisoo asks, not really sure if he wants to know the answer. The light turns green and he steps forward, Soonyoung bounding along ahead so that he's in front of Jisoo, walking backwards so that they're face-to-face.

The grin that Soonyoung offers him is so sharp and wild that Jisoo has to repress a shudder.

"Whatever Jeonghan needs me to do."

"Like…" Jisoo trails off, glancing around them. No one is close enough to them to hear any significant part of their conversation, but all the same, it feels strange to say the word _murder_ under the exceedingly normal and unthreatening lights of the main road, exposed to the rest of the city. Soonyoung seems to get the idea, though.

Soonyoung shakes his head and whirls back around so that he's side-by-side with Jisoo again. "No," he says, then frowns, his nose wrinkling in contemplation. "Well, not always _,_ anyway," he amends. "Jeonghan's got plenty of other people to do his dirty work for him. If _I_ get a job like that, then it's someone important. So I keep something a little more personal. A memento, you know."

"Of course," Jisoo says. "A memento." Soonyoung sounds as if he could be talking about a souvenir from a trip abroad, cheerful and bright, even though Jisoo knows that's certainly not what he means. He counts at least a dozen rings on Soonyoung's fingers and wonders what kind of things Soonyoung does that are more extreme than death.

"I think I deserve it," Soonyoung says decisively. "Compensation for all my trouble, you know. I don't wear those ones, though. Too flashy," he tells Jisoo matter-of-factly.

Jisoo has to fight the urge to laugh. He can't imagine what these mementos must look like if they're too flashy for _Soonyoung_ , even knowing what little he does about him. At a closer glance, though, he notices that all of Soonyoung's rings are simple, flat metal bands, some wider and some delicate and thin, but none of them particularly ostentatious on their own.

"Do you –" Jisoo pauses, frowning. "You bought these," Jisoo says, but it's a question because he's really not sure.

Soonyoung grins. "What if I stole them?"

"Did you?"

The laugh that Soonyoung lets out is bright and carefree, drawing a few glances from the people walking past them on the street. "This is where you draw the line? You're fine with everything else, but not petty theft?"

Jisoo is torn between rolling his eyes and giving Soonyoung a look of disapproval. He settles for a warning glance, not particularly enthusiastic about Soonyoung speaking so casually about his criminal tendencies when they're on a – all right, not a busy street, but not an empty one, either.

"Maybe they are," Soonyoung says, completely ignoring Jisoo's exasperation. "Stolen, I mean. After all, we don't all have someone like Jeonghan to spoil us with expensive gifts."

Jisoo feels his face warm, especially when Soonyoung glances pointedly down at the jewelry glittering on his own fingers.

Soonyoung slips one of his rings off his fingers, flipping it into the air and catching it with deft fingers. Jisoo is reminded of his knife and thinks privately that it's a good thing Soonyoung doesn't have it out now, though he doesn't doubt that it's probably tucked somewhere into his clothes – it would probably cause a panic in the streets, or at least a double take.

"Not this," says Soonyoung. "There's no challenge. I know I could get away with it, so there's no point."

Soonyoung is an erratic companion, prone to impulses and often attempting to persuade Jisoo to throw off his schedule in any way possible. It's a welcome distraction, at least, because always in the back of Jisoo's mind is the understanding that if Soonyoung is here, it means that Jeonghan isn't.

"We all do it, you know," Soonyoung tells Jisoo when he catches Jisoo staring at his rings again. He can't help it; they're _very_ bright and there are just so many of them. "Treating ourselves. Keeping reminders. Hao likes it when they're permanent and meaningful and all that – I keep telling him he'll end up running out of skin if he keeps it up."

"What about Jeonghan?"

Soonyoung grins. "You haven't noticed? Every time he has a good day he goes straight to you."

Jisoo probably shouldn't be as pleased as he is at that. He flushes again, somehow satisfied in the knowledge that he occupies at least a partially significant portion of Jeonghan's mind on a regular basis, and wonders if it compares to the way Jeonghan always seems to linger at the edges of his thoughts at every moment. Even if it's a little morally skewed that he's flattered about the fact that Jeonghan's first instinct after successful crime is to think of him.

"Or, he used to, anyway," Soonyoung says. "Now he leaves if he has a good day, or a bad day, or any day, really."

 _Not lately_ , Jisoo thinks, but doesn't bring it up. Hopefully, Jeonghan's flightiness and evasiveness won't last for too long and sooner or later, will be nothing more than a vague memory.

When the hospital comes into view, Jisoo turns to Soonyoung, about to tell him that he can manage himself from here – but Soonyoung has already vanished. Jisoo blinks at the empty space beside him, certain that Soonyoung was there just a few seconds ago, but there's no trace of him anywhere across the street.

Jisoo smiles wryly. Erratic, unpredictable – but entertaining, at least.

\--

As much as Jisoo appreciates Soonyoung's company and prefers it to walking alone, he's still disappointed when he sees Soonyoung loitering at a lamppost as he walks out at the end of his hospital shift.

"You aren't happy to see me," Soonyoung observes. "I'm hurt."

"Don't take it personally," Jisoo says and Soonyoung grins at the reminder of their first proper conversation. "I just –"

"Wish Jeonghan was back?" Soonyoung snorts. "You're as attached as he is."

Jisoo doesn't have a retort for that because if he's honest with himself, he really is. It's gotten to the point where he stays up much later than he usually would in the evenings in the hope that Jeonghan might walk in, and if his reluctance to leave the apartment this morning is any indication, he's certainly gotten more _attached_ to Jeonghan's presence in the time they've been involved. He doesn't think he's been this infatuated with someone since he was a teenager – but at the same time, he's not even sure if infatuation is the right word. At the beginning, maybe, when Jeonghan was mysterious and dangerous and enticing, but what he feels for Jeonghan has only grown more intense since then.

Jisoo realizes abruptly that they've been walking in silence for a while, Jisoo lost in his thoughts and Soonyoung staring down quizzically at his hands. Jisoo is confused for a second before he remembers that they're bare. He quickly unlaces the rings and bracelet from his pant strings and slips them back on, sitting snug in a now-familiar and comforting sensation against his skin. He usually doesn't bother until he's back home, but between Jeonghan's refusal to slip out of his thoughts and Soonyoung's curiosity, he wants to see Jeonghan's gifts sparkling against his skin.

"I can't wear them while I'm working," Jisoo explains. "Cross-contamination."

Soonyoung looks intrigued. "How was work?"

Briefly, Jisoo wonders if Soonyoung has ever been in a hospital. He glances at Soonyoung's clothes as if he'd be able to tell if he's been injured before, but there's no stiffness or unevenness to his movements that would suggest any lasting injuries. He's certainly patched Jeonghan up enough times, though, the most recent evening they spent together still fresh in his mind. Jisoo's sure that Soonyoung's probably needed medical attention at some point, but he can't really reconcile the image of Soonyoung or Jeonghan with the sterile environment of the hospital; they seem like two entirely different facets of his life.

"Busy," Jisoo settles on saying. "It's always busy. People get injured a lot."

"Sounds boring."

Jisoo lets out a snort of laughter. "It isn't, but I can't tell you a lot. Patient confidentiality and all that. I did get someone's number, though," he remembers, extracting the slip of paper from his pocket. It happens sometimes, usually from visitors and people accompanying the actual patients, though there have been memorable attempts from two patients themselves. It used to fluster him to no end and he would attempt to explain the ethics of it all, but now he just takes it in stride. It still baffles him a little, though: as confident as he is in his own appearance, hospital scrubs aren't known for being particularly flattering. It really is a little incredible that he managed to keep Jeonghan's attention wearing his shapeless scrubs during their first two meetings.

"Jeonghan's going to be so mad," says Soonyoung, sounding like the thought entertains him deeply.

Jisoo shrugs and drops the slip of paper into the next trashcan they walk past. "He's got nothing to worry about."

"Not at _you._ He'll be furious that someone had the audacity to think they had a chance with you."

A huff of laughter escapes him, because that does sound distinctly Jeonghan. Familiar fondness swells up inside him at the thought and _mine_ echoes in his ears in Jeonghan's voice. Soonyoung lets out a snort and Jisoo realizes that he's been caught lost in his thoughts again and drags himself back into the present, offering Soonyoung a half-embarrassed smile.

When they come to an intersection, Jisoo hesitates. Soonyoung comes to a halt next to him as well and looks at him inquiringly as the pedestrian crossing blinks down the seconds and Jisoo doesn't move to cross the road. The apartment is still a few blocks away but as it's one of the taller buildings in this part of the city, it's already partially in view.

Reluctance builds up inside him, accompanying the persistent hollow loneliness that's accompanied Jisoo for the last few days. He finds that he doesn't want to go back to the empty apartment and do nothing all day, idling and anxious in the vacant apartment that always seems far too big and grand for just one person, uncertain when Jeonghan will be back. The light turns red and cars start to streak past on the street in front of them and Jisoo is still hesitating at the crosswalk.

"Let's get something to eat," he says to Soonyoung on a whim.

"A date? I'm _flattered._ "

"Don't be."

Soonyoung laughs. "Don't worry, I'm joking. Jeonghan would kill me, otherwise. Lead the way," he says brightly.

Jisoo doesn't really know what's open this late – or this early, actually, it's past dawn and the sun is rising. He despises the night shift, but he hasn't been a doctor for very long and he doesn't ever get first pick of the shifts. He usually just stumbles a little bleary-eyed to bed and collapses in it, not bothering with anything more than a shower before falling asleep. He's never actually roamed the city this early in the morning; when he's up this early, he's either on his way to work or on his way back, and neither give him much opportunity to stop for a leisurely meal.

They end up in a street with food carts lining it on either side. It's mostly empty, as Jisoo would expect at this hour, but there are a few vendors that are setting up for the day, unpacking supplies and preparing ingredients. Jisoo approaches a booth as Soonyoung sprawls out at one of the little tables set up nearby, only grinning at Jisoo when Jisoo raises his eyebrows at him. The vendor says nothing of it, though, and Jisoo suspects that Soonyoung likely isn't the strangest person they've ever had to deal with.

Jisoo orders two _gilgeori_ toast and after a moment's consideration, two banana milks as well. There's hardly anyone around, so Jisoo slips into the seat across from Soonyoung to wait as their sandwiches cook.

"I'm not Jeonghan, you're paying," Soonyoung informs Jisoo. Jisoo shakes his head in exasperation, but can't quite stop a resigned smile from spreading across his face, which makes Soonyoung beam at him. Now that he doesn't have to worry about rent, he certainly has a lot more spending money, and he rarely ever buys anything except coffee, the occasional muffin, and a book every once in a while.

There's no one near Jisoo and Soonyoung's table, but there are a couple university-aged students making their way into the street, speaking quietly, almost mumbling in voices indistinct with tiredness. Jisoo winces in sympathy, reminded of his own painful all-nighters at university. He turns to Soonyoung, about to comment on it, and sees that Soonyoung is glancing around the street with keen eyes at odds to his lounging posture.

"Looking for someone?"

Soonyoung's eyes snap back to Jisoo. "No one," he says easily. "Just admiring the scenery."

 _He's been hanging around with someone lately,_ Jisoo recalls Jeonghan saying. _University student._ Jisoo hides his smile under the guise of watching the vendor ladle the egg mixture onto the hot pans, both at the way Soonyoung keeps sneaking glances at the group of students and at the knowledge that Jeonghan tells him about things like this, at least. Whoever Soonyoung's person of interest is, he doesn't seem to be around, because Soonyoung's face soon falls in an odd combination of relief and disappointment.

A few more people trickle in as the sun rises over the horizon. By the time they've gotten their toast from the vendor, the street is bright with sunlight and there's a soft murmur of conversation from a mixture of students and the odd businessperson. It seems as if this is a popular hangout for university students; belatedly, Jisoo recalls there being a large university campus in the city center, and suspects that it's not too far from this street.

Soonyoung inhales his food at a concerning rate. Jisoo is only two bites into his toast by the time Soonyoung has demolished half of his.

"Slow down," Jisoo says, distressed.

Soonyoung looks up with his cheeks round with food. Jisoo's throat aches as he watches Soonyoung swallow, both disturbed and amazed at the quantity of food Soonyoung manages to fit in his mouth.

"All right, _doctor_ ," Soonyoung says.

"Don't call me that, I'm off duty." He's still wearing his scrubs, though, which makes him feel a little self-conscious, especially next to Soonyoung's tight black clothes that make him look as nearly as out of place as Jisoo. He tightens his jacket around him, but there's no hiding his baggy blue pants, and he resigns himself to the glances of curiosity the two of them are attracting from the students walking past.

"Jisoo," Soonyoung amends, looking thoughtful. "You're, how old?"

"I just turned twenty-eight," Jisoo says. "I'll be twenty-nine this December. I know, I'm young," he says, used to puzzled looks from his coworkers. "I skipped a grade in elementary school and I have a late birthday."

"You're the same age as Jeonghan," Soonyoung says, something Jisoo already knows. "So you're older than me. Jisoo- _hyung_ ," he says, sounding delighted with the discovery.

Jisoo shakes his head, laughing a little – it's been a while since anyone has called him hyung, actually. They call him Dr. Hong at the hospital, sometimes Hong-ssi, or sometimes just a string of profanity. Jeonghan has any number of pet names for Jisoo, but no one has called him Jisoo-hyung with any kind of familiarity in a while. It feels nice.

Belatedly, he registers the first half of what Soonyoung said. "You don't call Jeonghan hyung?"

Soonyoung shrugs. "We don't really have much use for formalities."

"In the –" Jisoo stops, not really wanting to say the words _criminal hierarchy_ in a public place, even though there's no one in earshot.

"Oh, no, there are plenty of formalities _there."_ Soonyoung takes a long gulp of his banana milk, nearly draining it in one go. Jisoo's starting to realize that he probably should've ordered more food for Soonyoung, at the rate he's inhaling it. "Everyone else calls Jeonghan _hyungnim_. I mean that Jeonghan doesn't care about formalities with me and Hao. Hao's not even from here, anyway."

Jisoo doesn't know much about the inner workings of the criminal hierarchy, nor does he know much about Soonyoung, really, but it seems as if Soonyoung speaks about Jeonghan with a familiarity that goes beyond just loyalty and isn't anything like intimidation.

"How long have you worked with him?" Jisoo asks.

Soonyoung finishes the last half of his sandwich just as fast as he did the first. "Years," he says, once he's swallowed it all. "He wasn't the _boss_ at the time, though. Just the boss' prodigy."

"I know," Jisoo says, because he does, but not in much detail. Jeonghan's mentioned his past in an offhand sort of way, as if it isn't anything of much interest.

Soonyoung finishes his banana milk a few seconds later. He looks up from the empty carton at Jisoo, who pushes his own unopened carton over and stands up, looking for another open stall. Soonyoung follows cheerfully, sipping at Jisoo's banana milk.

"Can you tell me a little, at least?" Jisoo asks, once they've settled down at another table with three corn dogs. Jisoo suspects that he won't have a chance to taste any of them, considering he's barely halfway through his toast and judging by the way Soonyoung is eyeing them. "About why they might be…targeting Jeonghan."

Soonyoung looks thoughtful around a bite of corn dog. "I think I can tell you that," he says finally. "I don't think he would object."

Soonyoung sets down the now-clean stick in the paper container and rests his hand on the table. Now that the sun is up, his rings flash and glitter with every one of his movements, a blindingly bright band on his fingers. Jisoo makes an effort to look into Soonyoung's face instead of down at his rings or at the ground, which is his first instinct.

"Jeonghan is technically an outsider," Soonyoung says, something Jeonghan's told Jisoo briefly about, but he nods anyway. "His parents were involved with…" Soonyoung's eyes flick over to some passing students, his gaze following them until they walk out of earshot, "but not really a part of it. He's told you that much, hasn't he?"

Jisoo makes a sound of acknowledgement. "His parents were arrested, weren't they? For financial fraud."

Soonyoung nods. "The boss at the time, he took Jeonghan in after that happened. Jeonghan was twelve, I think? It didn't take long for the boss to name him his heir. Jeonghan impressed him."

 _Well, he's impressive,_ Jisoo wants to say. He doesn't, but he thinks Soonyoung at least suspects that he's thinking it, because he grins at Jisoo in a knowing sort of way.

"The boss liked him a lot. The son he never had and all that. His men, though." Soonyoung's face twists into a scowl.

"What don't they like?"

"What _do_ they like would probably be a shorter list," Soonyoung snorts. "He's young, for one, a _lot_ younger than what anyone's used to. He took over his parents' business so his image is too clean-cut for them. He restructured a lot of the hierarchy. He's not nearly as forgiving with first or second offenses as the old boss was. And there's…suspicion."

Jisoo waits as Soonyoung seems to choose his words. So far, everything Soonyoung is telling him matches up with the hints and casual comments Jeonghan has dropped in the time they've been involved, which reassures him in the knowledge that Jeonghan's been truthful, if vague. He immediately feels a twinge of guilt at suspecting Jeonghan, who, for all his evasiveness, has never outright lied to Jisoo. As far as he knows, anyway. In any case, the confirmation is encouraging.

"The former boss," Jisoo says. "He died suddenly, didn't he?"

Soonyoung nods. If he's surprised that Jisoo knows this, he doesn't show it. "Jeonghan suspects foul play. Everyone does, actually, but they all suspect different people. Some of the people causing trouble right now suspect that Jeonghan did it. Especially seeing as he changed everything so quickly after he took control." Soonyoung shrugs and reaches for another corn dog. "'Course, Hao and I know it's because he suspects one of _them_ plotted it so that they could take control of the hierarchy, but it's not like they're going to admit to that. Naming me and Hao his right-hand men probably didn't help things, though," he adds thoughtfully, before taking an enormous bite of corn dog.

"What do you mean?"

Soonyoung grins, an odd sight in combination with his full cheeks. He swallows, reminding Jisoo of his own partially-eaten toast still in his hand. He takes a bite as Soonyoung continues.

"I'm an outsider, too. Sort of. I'm disgraced, more like. Jeonghan picked me up off the streets when I was seventeen." His voice goes a little faraway and so does his gaze, his expression darkening at some memory. "And Hao's a foreigner," he continues cheerfully, the shift in tone so jarring that Jisoo blinks, confused. "Guess Jeonghan knows how to pick his men, huh? Even _you_."

Jisoo tips his head at Soonyoung in a silent question, his mouth still occupied with his bite of toast.

"Would've thought you'd have a stronger moral code than to get involved with someone like _Jeonghan_ ," says Soonyoung, his voice bright with laughter. "Not sure if I trust your judgement."

Jisoo lets out a huff of amusement, not least because he's thought the same thing himself more than once. He's a doctor, he's supposed to save lives, but he's also not supposed to judge the people he sees, learned to expect the unexpected and deal with it without batting an eye. As much as it might seem strange that someone like him is the lover of someone like Jeonghan, it feels right in a strange sort of way.

A memory rises to the forefront of his mind: Jeonghan showing up on the doorstep of his shitty little apartment, looking jarringly out of place with his sleek suit and cool poise and dangerous dark eyes against the flickering hallway lights and clutching his suit jacket closed. _I'm going to have to ask for a favour, sweetheart._

He thinks that was when he started to wonder about Jeonghan, stirring some emotion inside him stronger than surface-level intrigue because as much as the striking, charming stranger had lingered in his thoughts, that evening, they were on even footing – more than even. That evening, in his shabby apartment with the dim lighting and lukewarm tap water, Jisoo was in charge, instructing Jeonghan to stay still under his treatment and vindicated when he obeyed. He was the one that had the authority, commanding Jeonghan's attention on his fingers. He remembers Jeonghan's skin hot under his touch, leaning in close together so that their breath mingled, every brush of skin against skin lingering coyly, the suggestion of wanting something more.

"My judgement? What about Jeonghan's?" Jisoo asks.

Soonyoung lets out a snort. "Jeonghan's been gone for you since day one. He wouldn't stop talking about the man with the pretty eyes. Hao rolled his eyes so much I thought they would fall out of his head. It was funny, though."

Jisoo tries and fails not to flush with warmth again. This is something that Jeonghan has certainly never told him, as cool and charming as he always is. Soonyoung's grin widens when he looks at Jisoo's expression in between finishing off the last corn dog, making Jisoo drop his eyes back down to his toast, his face hot but smiling a little helplessly, endeared at the thought of an infatuated Jeonghan.

The sun is well over the horizon, now, and the street is starting to fill up. The smell of street food wafts through the air and brings a crowd of people and chatter along with it. Jisoo stands hastily to let a group of friends sit down and motions at Soonyoung to do the same, gathering up their empty paper cartons to throw them in a nearby trashcan.

"Why didn't he just deal with the," Jisoo searches for the word Jeonghan used, "dissenters? Why doesn't he do it now?" He asks as they turn onto the main street back to the apartment.

"Imagine what kind of an uproar _that_ would cause," says Soonyoung. "The old boss dies suddenly, his surrogate son, an outsider, succeeds him at a _very_ young age, and immediately gets rid of every single one of the old boss' most trusted men as soon as he comes to power? No one would follow him."

Jisoo makes some noise of agreement. He's not familiar with anything like this – he doesn't even know anything about corporate politics, let alone dealings in the criminal underground, but it makes sense to him.

"It's the same thing now," Soonyoung continues. "He's got nothing concrete; he just suspects. He can't deal with the underlings, either," Soonyoung adds, his voice layered with scorn. "They're idiots. They just follow whoever has the most power. He needs to get rid of the problem at the source and he can't do that until they give him a good reason to."

Soonyoung falls silent as they come to a busy intersection with people milling around, waiting for the light to turn green. It gives Jisoo some time to think about what he's said so far, imagining a younger Jeonghan newly come into power, wary of everyone around him, furious at the prospect of traitors in his ranks that he can't get rid of. A young Jeonghan maybe a little too stiff in his elegantly tailored suits, his grip a little too tight on his gun, and his dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. Maybe it explains some of his evasiveness, though it certainly doesn't make it any less irritating.

The light turns green and Soonyoung bounds on ahead, forcing Jisoo to break into a half-jog to keep up with him. It's not long before they've left the throng of people behind them again.

Jisoo hesitates for a few moments. There's a question that's been insistent in his mind for the past few days, and in the light of Soonyoung's easy conversation, he thinks that he might have a chance of having it answered.

"Please, Soonyoung,” he starts quietly, and Soonyoung's gaze snaps over to him, clearly registering Jisoo's change in tone. "What's he been _doing_? He can't be dealing with the, the dissenters," he says, anxiety creeping into his voice. "He'd _tell_ me if he was, and besides, you just said he can't risk anything without evidence. What isn't he telling me?"

Because Jeonghan isn't telling him something, that much Jisoo knows. He doesn't doubt that he's struggling with disharmony in his ranks, but with Jeonghan's unwillingness to give details and everything he's learned today, he knows that isn't why he's been gone so often lately. Something aches sharp and fierce in his chest, so intense that it's startling because Jisoo's told himself over and over again that Jeonghan doesn't owe him anything, has done more for him than he's ever expected, but it hurts all the same that Jeonghan doesn't seem to trust him enough to tell him important parts of his life when Jeonghan occupies so much of Jisoo's.

"You're my friend," Soonyoung says quietly. Jisoo's so taken aback with his confusion and conflicting emotions that he barely registers the faint spark of surprised happiness at being called Soonyoung's friend. "But I owe Jeonghan everything. I'm sorry."

He sounds genuinely apologetic and Jisoo feels another stab of guilt. Jisoo doesn't have the right to demand this of Soonyoung, who he's known properly for less than a week and whose loyalty is first and foremost to Jeonghan, and maybe he doesn't even have the right to ask it of Jeonghan. But they're nearly at the apartment and Jisoo can't stand the prospect of going back to the empty rooms that are so filled with Jeonghan and so empty of him at the same time, unable to do anything but agonize over where Jeonghan is and what he isn't saying.

"I wouldn't," Jisoo starts, almost pleading. "I wouldn't think less of him or betray him or – or whatever he thinks, why he isn't telling me. I just want to know the truth."

Soonyoung shakes his head, looking pained. It's a stark difference from his wild grin and crackling energy, his face twisted somewhere between sympathy and regret.

"I'll talk to him," he says, more quietly than Jisoo has ever heard him. "I'll try and convince him, yeah? I don't think it's fair to you, either."

Hope flickers in Jisoo's chest and he nearly goes in to hug Soonyoung before he holds himself back, realizing how potentially awkward it would be. "Thank you," he says, and means it.

"But," Soonyoung says, still quiet and unhappy-sounding, fiddling with his rings, twisting one of them around and around his index finger. "Jeonghan has his own reasons, too. And if he won't say, neither will I."

Somewhere in Jisoo's rising frustration, he admires Soonyoung's devotion to Jeonghan. There's no uncertainty in his response – unhappiness, maybe, but not even a flicker of doubt. They walk in silence into the apartment, and the elevator ride up is markedly more uncomfortable than it was a few days ago. Jisoo sighs inwardly at the knowledge that it's entirely his fault, putting Soonyoung in an uncomfortable position when it isn't even really his choice to be here.

Jisoo unlocks the door and hesitates in the doorway.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. "I didn't mean to pressure you –"

"It's all right," Soonyoung says. "I don't blame you for wanting to know. I would, too –" he cuts himself off, his eyebrows drawing together. He seems lost in thought for a few seconds, staring down at the rings on his fingers that glitter in the bright hallway lights.

 _Soonyoung won't tell him what he really does. He thinks it'll scare him off_.

But Jisoo isn't like the person of Soonyoung's interest, whoever he is. He knows who Jeonghan is and he isn't running scared. And he isn't a passing fascination, either – not that he knows enough about Soonyoung's relationships to make a judgement of that, but he and Jeonghan have been involved for months now, and that has to mean something.

"I had fun today," Soonyoung says finally, his voice bright and cheerful once more, though his grin isn't quite as wide as it was earlier. "You're fun. I would've been a lot more enthusiastic about this assignment if I knew it'd be like this. Jeonghan'll probably be back soon. Stay safe, yeah?"

He waves as Jisoo nods and closes the door to the apartment, his rings glittering under the hall lights. Mementos, reminders of a job well-done, something to indulge in after a successful night. Is that what Jisoo is to Jeonghan?

Or maybe – Soonyoung's more valuable rings, too _flashy_ to be worn. Is that how Jeonghan sees Jisoo, something favoured but nothing much more than a polished trinket to be possessed, kept safe and out of sight up in this apartment?

He can't be. He _isn't._ Jisoo shakes his head, trying to dissipate the intrusive thoughts. He hangs his coat up, the one purchased by Jeonghan, on a hook by the door, his jewelry – also gifts from Jeonghan – winking at him as they catch the light. He's not _nothing_ to Jeonghan. He lives in this lavish apartment because of Jeonghan, has fancy gifts and expensive clothes because of Jeonghan, has spent _months_ in Jeonghan's embrace. He's appreciated, certainly, maybe even adored, but respected?

Jisoo knows that Jeonghan cares about him, that all this is because he's concerned about Jisoo's safety – but he can't get rid of the thought that maybe, just maybe, Jeonghan thinks of him less as an equal in their relationship and more of an adornment, nothing more than a pretty bauble to be kept clueless and willing and perpetually waiting for Jeonghan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god someone stop me from making this a series the thing with soonyoung was supposed to be a throwaway thing but now i’m invested and i was already contemplating a thing with junhao and i do not have the time for this but i want to write it i hfjngkkhkg
> 
> also this chapter was supposed to be like, jisoo contemplating his poor life choices in becoming involved with, you know, a mafia boss, but that didn’t end up happening so stay tuned for that next chapter lol
> 
> twitter: @_blueshi, where i waste time complaining about writing instead of, you know, writing


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You’ve been out again,” Jisoo says.
> 
> "I said I needed to."
> 
> Jeonghan’s impassive tone sparks some frustration in Jisoo. "You also said you were going to be careful,” he retorts.
> 
> "This is important,” Jeonghan says. "You wouldn’t understand."
> 
> Anger flares up inside Jisoo, so blistering and sudden that it shocks even himself.
> 
> "I might, if you bothered to tell me anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: healthy communication is important for healthy relationships  
> me writing my characters: none of you are ever going to tell each other ANYTHING
> 
> also i'm so behind on writing for this fic lol the allure of the vague aesthetics of other fics is too strong to resist. also i promise minghao is showing up next chapter he was supposed to show up sooner he just likes being mysterious and much like soonyoung i simply cannot stop him
> 
> also in honour of gatsby being in the public domain now i'm using it in my fics. jisoo reads gatsby now.

Jisoo has barely registered that the door is opening when he feels Jeonghan's lips on his. It pulls a sound of surprise out from his throat, which quickly turns into a gasp as Jeonghan nips at his lower lip.

"Did you miss me, sweetheart?" Jeonghan breathes into Jisoo's mouth.

Jisoo makes a sound of agreement. At Jeonghan's prompting, he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, Jeonghan's tongue slipping into his mouth. Jeonghan twitches suddenly, minute but noticeable since Jisoo is pressed up against him, but in the next instant, Jeonghan trails his hand down Jisoo's spine and distracts Jisoo entirely.

Jisoo arches his body into Jeonghan's searing touch. He's reluctant to pull away, even as Jeonghan pulls at Jisoo's shirt with the intent to take it off. He fumbles with the buttons of Jeonghan's suit instead, not for the first time exasperated at Jeonghan's insistence on them. He opens up Jeonghan's shirt and immediately jerks to a stop when he feels not the smoothness of Jeonghan's bare skin, but a roughness under his fingertips.

He breaks away, ignoring a sound of protest from Jeonghan, and looks down. The bandage is gone, not that he expected Jeonghan to keep it on for very long, anyway. The cut isn't nearly as bad as it was, but neither is it as far along as it should be. It's mostly scabbed over, but the skin around it is red, the edges pulling apart, and there are fresh droplets of blood welling up from where the scab has been torn.

"You've been out again," Jisoo says.

"I said I needed to."

Jeonghan's impassive tone sparks some frustration in Jisoo. "You _also_ said you were going to be careful," he retorts.

Jeonghan pulls away, his partially-unbuttoned shirt falling loose around him and exposing the raw skin. Jisoo steps back out of the loose circle of Jeonghan's arms and the tension crackles in the space that opens up between the two of them. Jeonghan's gun gleams cold under the light from where he set it down moments before, his dark leather gloves discarded next to it.

"This is important," Jeonghan says. "You wouldn't understand."

Anger flares up inside Jisoo, so blistering and sudden that it shocks even himself.

"I might, if you bothered to tell me anything." Jisoo's voice rises with his temper and he struggles to keep it even. His jaw is tight and his shoulders taut as he fights to control his emotions, made all the more difficult in the presence of Jeonghan's perpetually cool composure.

Jeonghan's face is closing off, becoming a mask of indifference that Jisoo can never see behind. He's seen this expression on Jeonghan before, sees it take over in bits and flashes when he recalls parts of his…activities, in brief conversations with Minghao and Soonyoung, but never directed towards him.

"There's no need for this," Jeonghan says, his voice cool and dismissive even if the line of his jaw is tense and hard, gesturing at Jisoo's rising anger.

"Right, why should you tell me anything?" Jisoo snaps. "It's not like we're _involved_ or anything."

Jeonghan's face twists. Remorse pangs in Jisoo, but it's quickly overtaken by a callous sense of satisfaction at having pierced through Jeonghan's ever-present poise.

"Stop," Jeonghan says, his voice low and tight. "Don't say that. You know I care about you."

"Do you?"

Days of repressed, pent-up frustration have made Jisoo cruel. He's reminded of those terrible shifts when he has to look the patient's loved ones in the eyes and tell them _no, they didn't make it. I'm sorry._ When he has to turn away and turn his heart hard and unfeeling as they dissolve into dry, wracking sobs – or worse, when they say _no, I don't understand_ and he has to say bluntly, _they're dead._

Jeonghan recoils in the same way, his eyes wide and face open and helpless for just a split second, looking as if he's been slapped. He recovers before Jisoo has time to steel himself against his immediate regret, leaving him disoriented in his wildly conflicting emotions.

The emotion flashing in Jeonghan's eyes smooths back into a cold mask of expressionlessness.

"I told you, sweetheart," Jeonghan says, calm and even and infuriating. It feels as if he's talking down to Jisoo, patronizing and almost disdainful in the way he raises his eyebrows and presses his lips together and even the use of the usual endearment is grating. "I'll tell you more when everything's dealt with."

"Will you?" Jisoo accuses. "Or is that just an excuse?"

The line of Jeonghan's mouth tightens, cracks starting to appear in his composure. The silence between them stretches out from seconds to minutes. The only sound in Jisoo's ears is his determinedly even breathing and the pounding of his heart.

"I wouldn't lie to you," Jeonghan says finally.

"Really? You're not telling the truth either, though, are you?"

It's a low blow and Jisoo knows it, even more so after his conversation with Soonyoung. Jeonghan despises traitors, _liars_ , but Jisoo can't bring himself to feel regret. It feels as if some dam has broken inside of him so that all his anger is rushing forth from his mind and out of his mouth and he can't even hope to stop the flow. It feels like a stand-off, the two of them both disheveled from Jeonghan's long-forgotten greeting from an eternity ago, both of them crackling with anger and frustration no matter how much they fight to maintain their composure.

Jeonghan's face is filled with cold fury at the accusation. Jisoo is immediately thrown back to their first meeting, when Jeonghan was a cold, cruel unknown, a mysterious stranger and nothing more.

He knows Jeonghan, knows the curve of his body and the touch of his skin, knows the sound of his murmured voice in the mornings and his low purr when they fuck. But in this instant, this isn't his lover. This is Yoon Jeonghan, the most powerful and dangerous man in the city, the man who could have him killed in an instant if he wanted, the man that has the entire city at his whims. Jeonghan's eyes are very dark and unfathomable and his voice is cold and harsh and ringing with authority when he speaks.

"This _is_ the truth," Jeonghan says, his voice icy and piercing. Jisoo refuses to shudder, refuses to give into his instincts and back away when Jeonghan takes a step towards him. "This is what I do. I threaten people to control them, and if they don't do what I say, I kill them. If this is a problem for you –"

Jisoo cuts him off, his voice tight with anger. "Don't try and impose some sort of a moral code on me _now_."

"If you can't handle it –"

"Don't you _dare_ twist my words, Yoon Jeonghan," Jisoo hisses. "Don't make me out to be some kind of a – a lovesick idiot. I see death every goddamn day. I've had people die beneath my hands. I can handle this just fine."

"You haven't seen what it's really like."

"I've seen more than you, Yoon Jeonghan. Hell, I've seen _you_ –"

Jisoo breaks off, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his rough breathing. His thoughts are scattered, splintered with the force of his emotions. Jeonghan meets Jisoo's eyes steadily, his expression unreadable.

 _Would've thought you'd have a stronger moral code than to get involved with someone like Jeonghan_. He doesn't blame Soonyoung for thinking it, but he's infuriated that Jeonghan is using it as some kind of a shield to deflect from Jisoo's questions.

He's not some wilting innocent; no one at the hospital is. In the emergency room, he can see exactly how cruel people can be. A child with their arm broken by an enraged parent, the victims of a house burned down out of petty revenge, an argument between spouses that ended in the worst possible outcome – all these moments flash across Jisoo's mind in a single instant and countless others linger in the recesses of his thoughts. Grief, rage, helplessness, he's seen it all and he's furious at the implication that even after all that, he's somehow not as capable as Jeonghan.

He takes a moment to regather his thoughts, takes a deep, steadying breath, and starts again, calmer.

"I know what you do when you put those gloves on," he says. "Don't try and pretend I don't."

"Not in detail."

"And whose fault is that?" Jisoo counters. "I have a brain, you know. It doesn't take too long to fill in the gaps."

Jeonghan, unbelievably, looks frustrated. Irritation surges inside Jisoo; it's _him_ that's been led on and left ignorant and ignored, not Jeonghan, who has absolutely no right to be upset with him for just wanting to know what's going on.

"That's not the same," Jeonghan insists. Jisoo lets out a snort of disbelief, something Jeonghan bristles at, his eyes flashing. "I live this live, not you. Why can't you trust me to make these decisions?"

"I don't get a say?"

"You're not involved."

Something about the way Jeonghan says it sparks Jisoo's suspicion. Jeonghan, usually so composed and self-assured, isn't looking directly into Jisoo's face. His gaze is fixed somewhere past Jisoo, shadowed with some emotion Jisoo can't identify.

"Soonyoung said I was a target," Jisoo says.

Jeonghan goes suddenly silent and still. His face is stone-hard and completely blank. Jisoo's mouth goes dry and his heart thuds uncertainly in his chest – now, more than ever, Jeonghan looks like a stranger, stripped of his playful teasing and fierce pride, of even his fickle tempestuousness and preening vanity. Cold, unfathomable, and unreachable.

"I am, aren't I?" Jisoo says into the silence.

Jeonghan's fingers flex, tightening briefly before extending stiffly back out, as if he catches the motion before it can become anything. Jisoo wonders if he's aching for the weight of his gun in his hand. His voice is just the slightest bit rough around the edges when he speaks again, still not looking at Jisoo.

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

"I'm a secret, then." He's guessed as much, but the confirmation still aches in a way he can't describe and doesn't understand. He's never gotten the impression that Jeonghan has tried very hard to keep him out of sight. But he must be pulling the strings behind the scenes, because neither has he ever come in contact with any of Jeonghan's men besides Minghao and Soonyoung.

Jeonghan pauses. He speaks deliberately, as if considering each one of his words carefully. "Not to the people that matter."

"But to everyone else. I'm a secret. They might know you have a lover, but they don't know it's me."

"No."

"Why?"

Jeonghan is silent for a long moment. Jisoo's question hangs in the air between them, which has turned brittle and cold and suspicious in a way that things never have been between the two of them.

"Soonyoung said I was a liability," says Jisoo. "That's what he meant, isn't it?"

A storm of emotions flash across Jeonghan's eyes, so quickly that Jisoo can't identify them all but thinks he sees shock, irritation, dismay. He feels sudden guilt towards Soonyoung; betraying the things he's told him to Jeonghan so quickly for his own motives, even after Soonyoung agreed to talk to Jeonghan on his behalf. It's all but eclipsed by his anger, but it lingers nonetheless, a sour taste in the back of his mouth.

"It's…a weakness," Jeonghan says.

His face twitches as if it causes him pain to admit as much. It's nothing compared to the unexpected hurt that stabs through Jisoo, sending him reeling a step backwards. Jeonghan's eyes snap up to Jisoo's face, finally, when Jisoo least wants him to see how much that simple phrase has pierced through to him – but even then, his eyes fill with something and drop down again a heartbeat later.

"Being involved with me is a weakness?" He manages, his hands steady but his voice on the edge of a waver.

Jeonghan's face darkens. "Don't," he says sharply, his voice rough in Jisoo's ears. "That's not what I meant. Look, I can take care of myself. And I have Minghao and Soonyoung. But, the dissenters, they'd – they're looking for a weak spot, they've mad that very clear, and you're mine."

It doesn't sound like a compliment. It's nothing like the whispered, murmured praises pressed against Jisoo's skin while they lie in bed together, not like the hazy, early-morning murmurs of _you're mine_ that Jeonghan breathes into his ear or even the possessive growls that rumble in Jeonghan's throat when they fuck. It's cold, even clinical, flat and emotionless.

It hurts Jisoo more than he can say.

"Why don't you just leave me, then?" Jisoo challenges, his voice remarkably even and shaking only slightly on the word _leave_.

Jeonghan still won't look at him, as if the argument, as if _Jisoo_ is hardly worth the effort and he _wants_ him to, wants him to see the internal plead that he's certain must be pathetically exposed in his eyes. He wants Jeonghan to shake his head and touch his fingertips gently to Jisoo's face and say _no, I would never_.

He doesn't. His expression closes off, locked behind some wall that Jisoo can't get past. His gaze slips over to the gun on the side table, and Jisoo sees the glint of the metal reflected in Jeonghan's dark eyes.

Jeonghan's voice isn't angry or cold, not the least bit arrogant or even derisive. It's flat and emotionless, as if Jisoo isn't anything of much note, not something to become invested in.

"It's your decision to make," he says, turning away. "If you decide you can't put up with this. With me."

\--

Jisoo doesn't spend a lot of time on the apartment balcony. The coldness of the air startles him and he pulls at the hem of his shirt, unable to completely stop himself from shivering. Like most things in the apartment, the balcony railing is made of glass, cold under Jisoo's fingertips and glittering with the city lights that filter through it.

He tells himself that he's out here to get some air so that he can clear his head, but he knows that he all but fled from the living room, not wanting to relive the echoes of their argument any longer. He might have considered retreating to the bedroom, but Jeonghan is in the bathroom adjoining it taking a shower and he doesn't feel up to being that close to him yet.

Jisoo runs his fingers over the cold railing and closes them over it. He leans out over the balcony and stares out at the city, watching the pinpricks of light streak past on the street. Night has fallen – of course it has, Jeonghan only ever comes back at night – and the city skyline is dazzling in the darkness.

The cold air bites straight through the fabric of his baggy shirt and prickles at his exposed arms. He swallows down the shuddery feeling that rises up inside him and pretends like it has everything to do with the chill and nothing to do with the argument still echoing in his head.

He searches for something else to think about, his eyes flicking over the balcony and glancing briefly back inside. It's still stunning, this apartment, even after living in it for months now. Jisoo's family is certainly comfortable, but this is something else. It overlooks the entire city, which is always visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows that let in brilliant sunlight during the day and glittering city lights at night. It takes up the entirety of the top two floors in the apartment and has more rooms than Jisoo could ever find real use for.

Every single one of those rooms has echoes of him and Jeonghan. Jeonghan's skin slick as he presses him against the slippery wall of the shower, a shock of warmth against the coldness of the glass windows. Jisoo bent over the sleek dark wood of the table, straddling Jeonghan against the couch, wrapped up in Jeonghan on the bed and falling to pieces over and over again Jeonghan's arms.

He's struck by how much he's missed Jeonghan these past few days. In the beginning, he could go weeks without seeing him and be none the worse for it; it only made the sex all the more passionate, the banter that much more intriguing. It was a whirl of witty remarks, coy glances and smirks, the allure of danger in the tantalizing glimpses of the illicit life Jeonghan lives.

Becoming involved with Jeonghan was a moment of reckless abandon, but somewhere along the way, they've become more than that. Flirting became playful teasing and Jeonghan's protectiveness – possessiveness, maybe – surged with each week. He's never been with anyone that's made him ache for their presence as much as he does with Jeonghan. Everything with Jeonghan feels just as exhilarating as it did months ago, if not even more intense now that Jeonghan knows his body and mind inside and out. The thought only makes the argument sting even more, making Jisoo's breath catch in his throat with its abruptness.

Jisoo's fingers are going numb from the cold. He rubs them together, exhaling down on his fingers, now raw and red. His hands are steady, always steady, even when everything else feels fumbling and uncertain. _Doctor's hands_ , he thinks again, curling his fingers into his palm.

Jeonghan's hands, gloved in dark leather so that he leaves no fingerprints when he kills, his own, gloved in powder-blue so that he can save lives.

But maybe that's why they work. He remembers Jeonghan's blood beneath his fingers mingling with the knowledge that it's because of some crime he's committed, blood on Jisoo's hands because of the blood on Jeonghan's. This borderline between right and wrong, this reversal of power between them, this dynamic where each of them puts their lives in the hands of the other – maybe that's why he's been enraptured with Jeonghan for so long even knowing who he is and what he does.

Jisoo's not supposed to be with Jeonghan. He knows that. But he's always had a weakness for pretty things and forbidden things and things that aren't good for him in the slightest, and god knows Jeonghan is all three.

Jeonghan should know that, shouldn't he?

Jisoo stares down at the rings on his hands, one on his right ring finger, the other on his left pinky. Gifts from Jeonghan, reminders of his affection, but at the same time, Soonyoung's rings flash in his memory. _A memento. A job well-done._

He meant it, when he told Soonyoung that he'd never betray Jeonghan. Even as angry as he is with him right now, he would never, has never even considered it. Jeonghan's doubt hurts him in a way that leaves him stunned and breathless because he's never hidden anything from Jeonghan. He risks more being in this relationship than Jeonghan does and he's here anyway, always waiting for Jeonghan to come back. Doesn't that mean anything to him?

Maybe he is just a pretty thing to be kept on a shelf, Jisoo thinks bitterly. Even after all this, he slides the door open and traces his steps back into the apartment. He swipes up the book he left on the coffee table and ascends the stairs to their room.

_If you decide you can't put up with this. With me._

Jeonghan's indifference, his infuriating certainty that Jisoo won't understand what he has to say. Jisoo aches at being treated like someone ignorant and frightened and innocent. Hadn't their _very first meeting_ proved that he's not? Jeonghan was the one who sought him out after that, bleeding in his living room that was also his kitchen and bedroom. But instead of telling him more the longer Jisoo's been his lover, Jeonghan only seems to retreat into himself, becoming more evasive, deflecting questions with kisses and fucking and moans.

Perhaps it's a misunderstanding. Jeonghan must know that Jisoo's threat is an empty one, even if the emotions behind it are raw and real and aching.

Jisoo settles into their shared bed and listens to the sound of the water in the shower. He feels a little shaky, more than a little uncertain, but the familiarity of their room and the knowledge that Jeonghan is nearby eases it a little. He leans back against the headboard and flips open his book, only half-paying attention to it and as always, waiting for Jeonghan.

\--

The sound of the shower spray against the bathroom tiles cuts off so suddenly that Jisoo starts out of the uneasy lull he managed to find himself in. He manages to recollect himself in time to hear the ensuite door open, determined to appear as if he's none the worse for wear to Jeonghan. He flips a page and makes himself scan through the words, though none of them take real meaning in his mind.

Jeonghan comes out of the ensuite, wearing only a pair of loose sweatpants that Jisoo thinks probably started off as his, a towel draped over his shoulders. His hair is ruffled and damp and his face is still flushed with the heat of the shower spray. He looks, for the first time that night, open and sincere, so much so that Jisoo sees uncertainty flash in his eyes for a moment until he sees Jisoo on their bed. There's a reservedness to his expression that sits uncomfortable on his face, stiff and guarded, even as his gaze lingers on Jisoo.

When the tension in the room thickens until it's unbearable, Jisoo sighs.

"Come here," he says.

Jeonghan crosses the room in a few strides and sits on the edge of the bed. Jisoo sets his book aside and reaches out for Jeonghan. He touches him and frowns at the cut. Some fresh bruises, but no open wounds – except for the one on his chest, scrubbed pink and clean. He exhales slowly.

Jeonghan reaches up and covers Jisoo's hand with his. When Jisoo doesn't pull away, something in his face relaxes. He brings Jisoo's hands up to his lips and presses his fingers to his lips.

Jisoo feels the confrontation drain away from his body. His shoulders slump and he strokes his thumb helplessly over Jeonghan's cheek, unable to remain distant when Jeonghan is tousled and warm and solidly _there_ beside him. He shifts over, making room for Jeonghan beside him, and Jeonghan takes the invitation immediately to settle himself next to Jisoo, his bare skin warm through the material of Jisoo's thin shirt.

Jeonghan is the one that breaks the silence.

"I shouldn't have doubted you, hm, sweetheart?" Jeonghan asks, in the quiet, soft tone that Jisoo usually hears from him late at night before they drift off to sleep.

Jisoo rests his head against Jeonghan's shoulder. He lets himself close his eyes briefly, taking in the familiar feeling of Jeonghan's body next to his and the citrus smell of his soap. After a thought, Jeonghan reaches over to wrap his arm around Jisoo's shoulders.

"No, you shouldn't have," Jisoo agrees. Maybe he should protest more, but Jeonghan's voice is easy and fond again, his touch lingering sweetly on Jisoo's skin, and Jisoo is abruptly exhausted with all the revelations and questions and arguments that have battered him throughout the day.

There's undeniably something a little reserved about their gestures, though, as if things that would normally be almost instinctive are being considered more carefully right now. Neither of them brings up the argument, but Jisoo isn't naïve enough to think that it's completely behind them. It seems that both of them are too tired tonight to address it in full, the strength of their emotions used up in the argument a half-hour prior.

Jisoo reaches for his book again, knowing that Jeonghan isn't likely to want to discuss their argument and not wanting to sit in stiff silence. The only sound in the room is the rustle as he flicks through the pages, trying to find his spot again.

"What else did Soonyoung say," Jeonghan asks, after Jisoo has finally located his page.

Jisoo hums in contemplation. It's most likely as much of an apology as he's going to get right now and he's resigned to that, even if it prickles a little at his mostly-spent irritation. Briefly, he considers mentioning what's really on his mind – but the space between them is uncomfortably wary right now, just the slightest bit of indecision before reaching out for each other, both of them just slightly off-balance with the residue of their disagreement. He decides on slight teasing instead.

"That you wouldn't stop talking about me after we first met," he says, his eyes flicking upwards to catch Jeonghan's expression.

He feels his lips twitch upwards when Jeonghan's lips plump into the shadow of a pout, and clings to the familiar spark of fondness that it elicits.

"You were pretty."

Jisoo lets out a huff of laughter. "And that was it? Should I be offended that you're so shallow?"

"Hardly," Jeonghan sniffs, which makes Jisoo laugh softly again.

Jeonghan brushes his hand over Jisoo's thigh, so lightly that Jisoo hardly feels it. Jeonghan's other arm is still curled over his shoulders, his body warm but his hold gentle, almost uncertain around him. Jisoo doesn't shake him off; he rejects even the thought of it, but he can't swallow down his injured pride enough to encourage his touch, either.

"I wasn't even planning on doing anything, you know," Jeonghan says. "Well, not then, anyway."

"When did you? Decide, that is."

Jeonghan winds a strand of Jisoo's hair around his finger. On any other day, he might have tugged gently on it, playful and teasing, or maybe he would have started to run his fingers through Jisoo's hair and Jisoo would have leaned into it, accepting lazy kisses and maybe escalating to something more.

"Our second meeting," Jeonghan says. "You made me laugh. It's one of my favourite things about you."

Their second meeting. Jeonghan toying with him, _flirting_ with him, in a roundabout, slightly threatening sort of way, when Jisoo finally learned his name and who he was and what he did. Jeonghan is certainly open in how affectionate he is, that's never been new. But it's not like Jeonghan to reminisce. Maybe it's his own way of apologizing for suggesting that Jisoo might leave because of who he is, that he might flee knowing what Jeonghan does.

It's not a perfect apology by any means, but it does help. Jisoo feels himself soften.

"What is?" Jisoo asks. The paper rustles as he places the book down on his lap to free his hands. He tips his head so that he and Jeonghan are face-to-face at last.

Jeonghan leans in, his hand slipping to the back of Jisoo's neck. He pauses, their faces barely an inch apart, their breath mingling in the infinitesimal space between them. A still-damp strand of his hair falls forwards into his eyes, something that on Jeonghan, looks deliberate and effortlessly handsome.

"Your mouth," Jeonghan says.

Jisoo feels the corners of his lips rising. "My mouth," he repeats.

"Well, the things that come out of your mouth," Jeonghan says, "but also, you know, your mouth."

Jisoo laughs quietly and finally closes the distance between them.

Jeonghan's mouth is as soft and insistent as it always is, but malleable today instead of firm, maybe in apology. He lets Jisoo take the lead, parting his lips when Jisoo nudges them apart and obligingly tilting his head when Jisoo tugs gently at his damp hair. A hum of pleasure vibrates through his throat when Jisoo reaches up a hand to cup his face.

Jisoo's not quite in the mood for sex today. He thinks Jeonghan might be, because he makes a faint sound of discontentment when Jisoo pulls away, a little flushed but not quite breathless yet. Jeonghan also seems to feel some sort of guilt for the argument, though, because he doesn't protest when Jisoo leans back against him instead of initiating anything more. Jeonghan relaxes and settles back against the headboard a moment later.

"What are you reading, sweetheart?" He asks, as Jisoo moves to pick up his book again.

Jisoo shrugs. "An old book. Just something I'm re-reading."

Jeonghan hooks his chin over Jisoo's shoulder, his breath stirring the strands of hair by his ear. "Read it to me?" He asks.

Jisoo smiles. He takes a moment to find his spot on the page again, trailing his finger down the words, and readjusts so that he's balancing the book in one hand.

"For a while," he begins. "I lost sight of Jordan Baker, and then in midsummer I found her again. At first I was flattered to go places with her because she was a golf champion and every one knew her name. Then it was something more."

He pauses, feeling Jeonghan's gaze on him, letting out a light laugh. "You know, if you're not going to pay attention," he starts.

"No, no, I am," Jeonghan insists. His breath is warm on Jisoo's skin and his heartbeat thrums against Jisoo's body. "Keep going, sweetheart," he urges.

Jisoo shakes his head, smiling, but continues. "I wasn't actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity," he reads.

Jeonghan's eyes stay fixed on him, but his hands wander, stroking against Jisoo's hair before trailing down Jisoo's body until they find their way to his hands. He plays with the ring there, twisting it around and around Jisoo's fingers. Even as Jisoo reads, he catches the sparkling light that they throw off out of the corner of his eye.

"The bored haughty face that she turned to the world concealed something—most affectations conceal something eventually, even though they don't in the beginning—and one day I found what it was."

Jisoo glances down at his hand, at Jeonghan's hands moving absently over it. "Bored?" he asks.

"No, keep going. I like hearing you read."

The stiffness is easing between the two of them, no longer stepping gingerly around each other the way they were a few minutes ago. Jeonghan fiddles with his gift to Jisoo with one hand and strokes Jisoo's hair with the other and Jisoo's quiet voice drifts through the room, only interrupted by the rustle of a turning page.

Jisoo continues to read and the two of them curl into each other as the evening stretches on. When Jisoo's voice goes blurry with sleep and Jeonghan's hands slow in Jisoo's hair, Jisoo sets the book aside.

Jeonghan draws Jisoo close to him after they've turned off the lights. Jisoo lets his body melt into Jeonghan's embrace and his eyes flutter shut, but exhausted as he is, his thoughts won't let him drop off to sleep. And even though Jeonghan's breathing is even and slow, he has the feeling that Jeonghan isn't asleep either, even though neither of them does anything to indicate that they're still awake.

Without any distractions, with only his own thoughts for company, Jisoo can't stop them from drifting towards the argument again. Jeonghan isn't telling him something important and he _knows_ that.

At the same time, though, maybe he's being unfair to him. He trusts Jeonghan's judgement, doesn't he? Of course he does, he wouldn't be here, sharing a bed with him, enclosed in his arms if he didn't.

If nothing else, the two of them know that they care about each other. There will be plenty of time in the future for them to work out the details, when Jeonghan is less busy. Maybe it could be better, but for now, Jisoo tells himself that this is enough.

Only slightly reassured, Jisoo finally drops off into an uneasy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry i'm sorry jeonghan is a bit of a dick they’re both a little shitty to each other right now because jeonghan never really made his boundaries clear in the first place but now that jisoo knows them he keeps pushing them and they Are going to Work Things Out
> 
> catch me on twitter @_blueshi where my dms are open if you want to yell at me or just chat about frogs or something


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